IBRARY    ) 

4IVEHSITY0F        I 
CALIFORNIA  I 


L Library 
UNIVERSITY 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO     J 


3  1822  01191   4710 


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lUustratcd  Sterling  edition 


THE 

FIRST    REPUBLIC 

OR 

THE  WHITES  AND  THE  BLUES 

TWO    VOLUMES    IN    ONE 

BY 

ALEXANDRE    DUMAS 

ILLUSTRATED 


BOSTON 

DANA   ESTES    &   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,   i8g4, 
By  Estes  and  Lauriat. 


PREFACE. 


In  the  preface  to  "  The  Company  of  Jehu,"  I  told  how 
that  novel  came  to  be  made  ;  and  those  who  have  read 
the  book  know  very  well  what  I  borrowed  of  Nodier,  the 
eye-witness  of  the  death  of  the  four  Companions  :  I 
borrowed  my  finale  of  him. 

^-.ow,  "'•  The  Whites  and  the  Blues,"  being  a  continu- 
ation of  "  The  Company  of  Jehu,"  no  one  will  be 
surprised  that  I  borrow  again  of  Nodier.  During  his 
long  illness,  which  was  only  the  gradual  extinction  of 
his  strength,  I  was  one  of  his  most  constant  visitors  ; 
and  as  he  had  not  had  time,  owing  to  his  incessant 
labors,  to  read  my  books  when  he  was  well,  no  sooner 
was  he  ill  and  confined  to  his  bed  than  he  collected 
about  him  the  seven  or  eight  hundred  volumes  I  had 
published  up  to  that  time,  and  devoured  them.  The 
more  knowledge  he  got  of  my  ways  of  work,  the  more 
his  confidence  in  my  literary  ability  increased  ;  and  every 
time  I  spoke  to  him  of  himself  he  would  answer:  — 

"  Oh,  as  for  me,  time  was  always  lacking.  1  never 
had  leisure  to  do  more  than  pencil  sketches  ;  whereas 
you,  if  you  had  taken  this  or  that  subject  of  which  I  have 
made  a  novel  in  one  volume,  —  you  would  have  made 
one  in  ten." 


IV  PKEFACE. 

It  was  then  that  he  related  to  me  the  facts  filling  four 
pages  which  I  made  into  the  three  volumes  of  "  The 
Company  of  Jehu,"  and  it  was  then,  also,  that  he  told 
me  the  story  of  Euloge  Schneider,  declaring  that  I  should 
probably  make  ten  of  it. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  some  day,  my  good  friend,  you  will 
write  those  volumes,  and  if  any  part  of  us  survives 
hereafter,  I  shall  enjoy  your  success  up  there,  mid  my 
vanity  will  tell  me  I  had  something  to  do  with  it." 

Well,  I  wrote  -'  The  Company  of  Jehu,"  and  ever 
since  the  success  of  that  book  I  have  been  tormented 
with  the  idea  —  taking  my  point  of  departure  for  a  new 
book  from  Nodier's  "  Episodes  of  the  Revolution,"  just 
as  I  took  my  finale  from  his  "  Thermidorcan  Reaction  " 
—  I  have  been  tormented,  I  say,  with  the  idea  of  writing 
a  great  novel  on  the  First  Republic,  entitled  "The 
Whites  and  the  Blues,"  from  the  facts  I  took  from  his 
lips  and  from  his  written  recollections. 

But  just  as  I  was  beginning  to  set  to  work  a  scruple 
seized  me.  This  time,  it  was  not  a  matter  of  borrov^ing 
a  few  pages  from  my  old  friend,  it  was  the  actual  puttbg 
of  himself  upon  the  scene.  So,  I  wrote  to  my  dear 
sister,  Marie  Mennessier,  and  asked  her  to  permit  me  to 
do  a  second  time,  with  her  permission,  that  which  I  had 
done  once  without  it  ;  that  is  to  say,  graft  on  a  wild 
stock  of  my  own  a  slip  from  her  paternal  tree.  To  thi^ 
request  she  replied  as  follows  :  —  ; 

Take  what  you  wish  and  all  you  wish,  my  brother 
Alexandre  ;  I  give  my  father  into  j^our  hands  with  as  muoli 
confidence  as  if  he  were  your  own.  His  memor}^  is  in  gooc. 
hands,  and  his  recollections  too. 

Marie  Mennessier-Nodier. 


PREFACE.  V 

After  that,  nothing  could  stop  me;  and  as  my  plot 
was  all  laid  out,  I  went  to  work  at  once.  The  publica- 
tion of  the  book  begins  to-day  ;  but  in  giving  it  to  the 
public  I  have  a  duty  of  the  heart  to  do,  and  I  thus 
accomplish  it  : 

This  book  is  dedicated  to  viy  illustrious  friend  and 

collaborator, 

Charles  Nodiek. 

I  say  collaborator,  because  if  any  one  takes  the  trouble 
to  look  for  another,  he  will  have  his  trouble  for  his 
pains. 

Alex.  Dumas. 


CONTENTS, 


THE  PRUSSIANS  OX   THE  RHINE. 

Page 

I.  From  the  Hôtel  dk  la  Poste  to  the  Hôtel 

DE  LA  Lanterne 11 

II.  The  Citoyenne  Teutch 19 

IIL  EuLOGE  Schneider 28 

IV.  Eugène  de  Beauharnais 'SU 

V.  Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt 44 

VI.  Maître  Nicolas 56 

VIT.  Filial  Love,  or  the  Wooden  Leg      ....  Cl 

VIII.  The  Provocation Ci) 

IX.  Charles  is  arrested       , 7G 

X.  Schneider's  Trip 82 

XI.  An  Offer  of  Marriage .  85 

XII.  Saint-Just 90 

XIII.  Euloge  Schneider's  Wedding     ......  97 

XIV.  Wishes 102 

XV.  The  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  ......  109 

XVI.  The  Fatigue  Cap 117 

XVII.  Pichegru .124 

XVIII.  Charles's  Reception  ..........  131 

XIX.  The  Spy .  137 

XX.  A  Dying  Prophecy =     .     .     .     .  144 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


Pacb 

XXI.     The  Day  before  the  Fight 151 

XXII.     The  Battle 157 

XXIII.  After  the  Battle 163 

XXIV.  CiTizEX  Fexouillot,  Commercial  Traveller 

IN  Wines lt!L» 

XXV.     The  Chasseur  Falou  and  Corporal  Faraud  175 

XXVI.     The  Envoy  of  the  Prince 182 

XXVII.     Piciiegru's  Answer 189 

XXVIII.    A  Drum-Marriage 198 

XXIX.     Six    Hundred   Francs    for    those   Prussian 

Cannon!     , 207 

XXX.     The  Organ 214 

XXXI.    In  which  we  begin  to  perceive  the  Organ- 

Grindeu's  Plan 221 

XXXII.  The  Toast 227 

XXXIII.  The  Order  of  the  Day  . 234 

XXXIV.  Faraud  and  Falou 242 

XXXV.     In  which  Abattucci  fulfils  the  Mission  he 

received  from  his  General,  and  Charles 

that  which  he  received  from  God.      .    .  248 


THE   THIRTEENTH   VENDEMIAIRE. 

I.     A  Bird's-Eye  View 255 

II.     A  Glance  at  Paris:   The  Incroyable    .     .     .  259 

III.  The  Merveilleuse 264 

IV.  The  Sections 2CS 

V.     The  President  of  the  Section  le  Peletier  273 

VI.     Three  Leaders 279 

VII.     General   Round-head  and   the   Chief  of  the 

Company  of  Jehu  ....          284 

VIII.     The  Man  in  the  Green  Coat 289 

IX.     An  Incrovable  and  a  ^Ierveilleuse      .     .     ,  2)4 


CONTENTS.  IX 

Page 

X.    Two  Portraits 299 

XI.     Aspasia's  Toilet ,. 304 

XII.     Sic  vos  xon  vobis 308 

XIII.  The  Eleventh  Vendémiaire 312 

XIV.  The  Twelfth  Vendémiaire 316 

XV.    The   Night  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth 

Vendémiaire 321 

XVI.     The  Salon  of  Madame  la  Baronne  de  Staël, 

Swedish  Amba^^sadress 325 

XVII.     The  Hôtel  of  the  Rights  of  Man     ....  338 

XVIII.    Citizen  Bonaparte 342 

XIX.     Citizen  Garat 347 

XX.    The  Outposts 354 

XXI.     The  Steps  of  Saint-Roch 359 

XXII.     The  Rout 363 

XXIII.  Victory .  367 

XXIV.  The  Sword  of  the  Vicomte  de  Beauharnais  370 


CONTEiNTS. 


THE   THIRTEENTH   VENDÉMIAIRE   (Continued). 

Page 

XXV.     The  Map  of  Marengo y 

XXVI,     MARiE-UosE-JosÉruiNE    Tascheu    pe   I.A    Pa- 

GEKiE,  Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais  ...  14 
XXVII.     AViiERE  AX  Angel  sets  her   Foot,  Miracles 

ARE    DONE IH 

XXVIII.     The  Seeress 23 

XXIX.     The  Occult  Art *J9 

XXX.     The  F.\lse  Incroyable 35 

XXXI.       .Vl.L     II.\IL,     M.VCBETII  i     that     SHALT     UK    Kl.NG 

hereafter 40 

XXXII.     The  Man  of  the  Future     ......  47 

THE   EIGHTEENTH    FRUCTIDOR. 

I.     A  Glance  at  the  Provinces 53 

II.     The  Traveller 5« 

III.  The  Chartreuse  of  Seillon 63 

IV.  The  Traitor C8 

V.     The  Sentence 72 

VI.     Diana  de  Fargas 77 

VTI.     That     which     occupied     for     more     than 
THREE      Months     the     Tongues     of     the 

little  Town  of  Xantua 82 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


Pagb 
VIII.     In   which    a    kew    Companion    is    keceived 
INTO    THE    Company   of   Jehu    under   the 

Name  of  Alcibiades 86 

IX.     The  Comte  de  Fargas 91 

X.     The  Trouillas  Tower 96 

XI.     The  Brother  and  Sister 102 

XII.     In   which  the  Reader  finds  some  old  Ac- 
quaintances     . 107 

XIII.  Citizens  and  Messieurs 112 

XIV.  Why  Citizen  '^  eneral  Box  aparté  was   out 

OF  Temper 118 

XV.     AUGEREAU 125 

XVI.     The  Citizen  Directors 131 

XVII.     Mademoiselle  de  Saint-Amour  has  a  Head- 
ache       138 

XVIII.     The  Mission  of  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  .  143 

XIX.     The  Travellers 149 

XX.     There  is  no  Company  so  good  that  it  does 

not  part 155 

XXT.    Citizen  Francois  Goulin IfiO 

XXII.     Colonel  IIulot 166 

XXTII.     The  Fight 172 

XXIV.     Portia 177 

XXV.     Cadoudal's  Idea 183 

XXVI.     The  Road  to  the  Scaffold 189 

XXVir.     The  Execution 195 

XXVIII.     The  Seventh  Fructidor 202 

XX rX.     Jean-Victor  AIoreau 209 

XXX.     The  Eighteenth   Fructidor 215 

XXXI.     The  Temple „     .     .  222 

XXXII.     The  Condemned  Men 229 

XXXIII.     The  Journey 235 


XXXIV. 
XXXV. 


I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

xvni. 

XIX. 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

Page 

The  Embarkatiox 241 

France,  fauewell  ! 248 

THE   EIGHTH   CRUSADE. 

Saint-Jean-d'Acre 253 

The  Prisoners 261 

Carnage 267 

Antiquity  in  these  Days 272 

Sir  Sidney  Ssuth 278 

Ptolemais  . 285 

The  Scouts 292 

The  Beautiful  Daughters  of  Nazareth    .  298 

The  Battle  of  Nazareth 304 

Mount  Tabor 310 

The  Vendor  of  Bullets 317 

How    the    Citizen    Pierue-Claude    Faraud 

WAS  MADE  Sub-Lieutenant 321 

The  Last  Assault 327 

The  Last  Episode 332 

Vanished  Dreams 336 

The  Retreat 342 

In  which  we  find  that  Bonaparte's  Presen- 
timents were  not  mistaken 348 

Aboukir ^^^ 

Departure 3'Jl 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


VOL.  I. 

Page 

Portrait  or  Bonaparte Frontispiece 

Portrait  of  St.  Just 91 

Portrait  op  Pichegru 131 

Battle  of  Dawendorf 158 

Portrait  of  Barras 301 

Portrait  of  Eugène  Beauharnais 371 

VOL.  n. 

Portrait  of  Hoche 135 

Battle  of  the  Pyramids 257 

Battle  of  Mt.  Tabor 313 

Bonaparte  in  the  Pest-Housb  at  Jaffa 348 

Portrait  of  Kleber 360 


THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC 

VOLUME    I. 


THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC; 

OR, 

THE    WHITES    AND    THE    BLUES. 


PROLOGUE. 
THE   PRUSSIANS   ON   THE   RHINE. 

I. 

FROM     THE     HÔTEL     DE     LA     POSTE     TO     THE     HOTEL     DE     LA 
LANTERNE. 

On  the  twenty -first  Frimaire,  year  II.  (lltli  of  December, 
1793),  the  diligence  from  Besançon  to  Strasbourg  drew  up, 
about  nine  in  the  evening,  in  the  interior  courtyard  of  the 
hôtel  de  la  Poste,  which  stands  behind  the  cathedral. 

Five  travellers  got  out  ;  only  one  of  whom,  the  youngest 
of  the  five,  will  occupy  our  attention.  He  was  a  child, 
about  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  thin  and  pale,  who 
might  have  been  taken  for  a  girl  dressed  in  boy's  clothes, 
so  quiet  and  gentle  was  the  expression  of  the  face.  His  hair, 
which  was  cut  à  la  Titus,  a  fashion  which  zealous  republi- 
cans had  copied  from  Talma,  was  a  dark  chestnut  ;  eyebrows 
of  the  same  color  overshadowed  a  pair  of  light-blue  eyes, 
which  rested  on  men  and  things,  like  piercing  interrogations, 
with  remarkable  intelligence.  The  lad's  lips  were  thin,  his 
teeth  handsome,  his  smile  charming  ;  and  he  was  dressed  in 
the  style  of  the  day,  if  not  elegantly,  at  least  so  neatly  that 
it  was  easy  to  see  a  woman's  hand  had  passed  that  way. 

The  conductor,  who  seemed  to  take  some  special  care  of 
the  boy,  gave  hmi  a  little  package,  not  unlike  a  soldier's 


12  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

knapsack,  which,  thanks  to  a  pair  of  straps,  could  be  carried 
on  the  back.  Then,  looking  about  him,  the  conductor  called 
out,  — 

''  Holà  !  is  there  any  one  here  from  the  hôtel  de  la  Lan- 
terne waiting  for  a  young  gentleman  from  Besançon  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  a  rough,  coarse  voice  ;  and  a  stable-man, 
hidden  by  the  darkness  in  spite  of  the  lantern  he  carried 
in  his  hand,  which  lighted  only  the  pavement  at  his  feet, 
came  up  to  the  lumbering  vehicle  on  tlie  side  of  the  open 
door, 

"  Ha  !  it 's  you,  Sleepy  !  "  exclaimed  the  conductor. 

"  My  name  's  not  Sleepy,  I  'm  called  Codes,"  replied  the 
stable-man,  in  a  surly  tone,  "  and  I  have  come  to  fetch  citizen 
Charles  —  " 

"  Sent  by  the  citoyenne  Teutch,  are  not  you  ?  "  said  the 
lad,  in  a  gentle  voice,  forming  a  charming  contrast  to  the 
rougli  tones  of  the  hostler. 

"  Yes,  that 's  so.     Well,  are  you  ready,  citizen  ?  " 

"  Conductor,"  said  the  child,  "  will  you  tell  them  at 
home  —  " 

"  That  you  got  here  safe,  and  they  met  you  —  yes,  yes, 
Monsieur  Charles." 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  stable-man,  in  a  tone  that  was 
almost  threatening,  walking  close  up  to  the  conductor  and 
the  lad,  "  oh,  oh  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  with  your  '  oh,  ohs  !  '  " 

"  I  mean  that  the  language  you  are  talking  may  be  that 
of  Franche-Comté,  but  it  is  n't  that  of  Alsace." 

"  Really  !  "  said  the  conductor,  in  a  jeering  tone  ;  "  so 
that  is  what  you  want  to  say  to  me,  is  it  ?  " 

"  And  to  give  you  a  bit  of  advice,"  added  citizen  Codes, 
"which  is,  to  leave  your  tnonsieurs  inside  your  diligence, 
inasmuch  as  they  are  not  in  fashion  in  Strasbourg,  above  all 
now  that  we  have  the  honor  of  receiving  within  our  walls 
the  citizen-representatives  Saint- Just  and  Lebas." 

"A  fig  for  your  citizen-representatives;  take  tliis  young 
man  to  the  Lanterne."     And  without  paying  further  heed 


FROM   LA   POSTE   TO   LA   LANTERNE.  .13 

to  citizen  Codes'  advice,  the  conductor  turned  in   to  the 
hôtel  de  hi  Poste. 

The  man  with  the  lantern  looked  after  liim,  muttering; 
then  turning  to  the  lad  he  said,  — 

"  Come,  come  on,  citizen  Charles,"  and,  walking  first,  hf> 
showed  the  way. 

Strasbourg  is  at  no  time  a  lively  city,  above  all,  at  two 
hours  after  taps  ;  but  it  was  less  lively  than  ever  at  tlio 
time  this  tale  begins,  that  is  to  say,  early  in  December, 
1793.  The  Austro-Prussian  army  was  literally  at  the 
gates  ;  Pichegru,  general-in-chief  of  the  army  of  the  Phine, 
after  collecting  all  the  remnants  of  the  corps  he  could  find, 
had,  by  force  of  will  and  example,  re-established  discipline 
and  resumed  the  offensive  on  the  18th  Frimaire,  that  is, 
three  days  earlier,  organizing  (inasmuch  as  he  was  too  weak 
to  offer  battle)  a  war  of  skirmishers  and  sharp-shooters. 
He  succeeded  Houchard  and  Custine,  both  guillotined  on 
account  of  their  reverses,  also  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais, 
who  was  about  to  be  guillotined  also. 

Saint- Just  and  Lebas  liad  come  to  Strasbourg  not  only  to 
order  Pichegru  to  conquer,  but  to  decree  victory.  The 
guillotine  followed  them,  to  execute  instantly  any  sentence 
they  pronounced. 

Three  decrees  had  been  issued  that  very  day.  First  :  it 
was  ordered  that  the  gates  of  Strasbourg  should  be  shut  at 
three  in  the  afternoon,  under  pain  of  death  to  wlioever 
delayed  the  closing  even  five  minutes.  Second:  it  was  for- 
bidden to  fly  before  the  enemy  ;  the  penalty  of  death  was  ' 
decreed  for  whoever  turned  his  back  on  the  battle-field, 
whether  a  cavalry  man  who  galloped  his  horse,  or  a  foot- 
soldier  who  ran.  Third  :  it  was  ordained,  in  consequence  of 
the  surprises  planned  by  the  enemy,  that  every  man  should 
go  to  bed  in  his  clothes.  Death  was  decreed  for  all,  sol- 
diers, officers,  or  chief  officials,  who  should  be  discovered 
undressed. 

The  lad  who  now  entered  the  town  was  to  see  within  six 
days  the  execution  of  each  of  these  decrees. 


14  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

As  we  have  said,  all  these  circumstances,  added  to  the 
news  received  from  Paris,  made  Strasbourg,  a  naturally  dull 
town,  duller  still.  The  news  from  Paris  was  the  death  of 
the  queen,  the  death  of  the  Due  d'Orléans,  the  death  of 
Madame  Eoland,  the  death  of  Bailly.  There  was  also  talk 
of  the  probable  capture  of  Toulon  by  the  English  ;  but  this 
was  only  a  rumor  which  lacked  confirmation. 

Neither  was  the  hour  of  the  lad's  arrival  one  which  was 
likely  to  make  Strasbourg  seem  gay  to  him.  By  nine 
o'clock  at  night  the  dark  and  narrow  streets  were  deserted 
and  left  to  the  patrols  of  the  Civil  Guard  and  the  Company 
of  the  Propaganda,  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  public  order. 
Nothing  could  be  more  lugubrious  for  a  traveller  just  arriv- 
ing from  another  city  which  was  neither  the  scene  of  war 
nor  a  frontier  town,  than  the  sound  of  the  nocturnal  march- 
ing to  and  fro  of  these  armed  bodies,  stopping  now  and 
then,  with  gruiî  orders  and  clang  of  weapons,  as  they  met 
other  bodies,  exchanged  the  pass-word,  and  went  on. 

Two  or  three  of  these  patrols  had  met  our  young  arrival 
and  his  conductor  without  taking  any  notice  of  them,  when 
suddenly  another  body  advanced,  and  the  words  "  Qui  vive  ?  " 
resounded.  There  were  three  ways  of  replying  to  the 
nocturnal  qui-vive  in  Strasbourg;  all  three  indicating  in  a 
sufficiently  characteristic  way  the  different  shades  of  opin- 
ion. The  ^  Indiiferents  replied  :  '•  Friends."  The  Moder- 
ates replied  :  "  Citizens."  The  Fanatics  replied  :  "  Sans 
Culottes." 

"  Sans  Culotte  !  "  replied  Codes,  energetically. 

"  Advance  !  "  cried  an  imperative  voice. 

"  Ha,  good  !  "  said  Codes,  "  I  know  that  voice  ;  it  is 
citizen  Tetrell's  ;  that's  all  right." 

"  Who  is  citizen  Tetrell  ?  "  asked  the  lad. 

"  The  friend  of  the  people,  the  terror  of  aristocrats,  a 
pure  patriot."  Then,  advancing  like  a  man  who  had  noth- 
ing to  fear,  he  added  :  "  It  is  I,  citizen  Tetrell,  it  is  I  !  " 

"  Ah,  you  know  me,  do  you  ?  "  said  the  leader  of  the 
patrol,  a  giant  nearly  six  feet  tall,  who  attained  a  heiglit  of 


FROM    LA   POSTE    TO   LA   LANTERNE.  15 

seven  feet  by  means  of  his  hat  and  the  feathers  that  sur- 
mounted it. 

"Of  course!"  said  Codes;  "who  doesn't  know  citizen 
Tetrell  in  Strasbourg  ?  "  and  then,  as  he  passed  the  giant,  he 
added:  "Good-night  to  you,  citizen  Tetrell." 

"You  know  me,  that's  all  very  well,"  returned  the  giant; 
"but  I  don't  know  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  do  !  I  am  citizen  Codes,  whom  they  used 
to  call  '  Sleepy  '  in  the  days  of  the  tyrant.  In  fact  it  was 
you  yourself  who  baptized  me  with  that  name  when  you 
kept  your  horses  and  dogs  at  the  Lanterne.  Sleepy  ! 
don't  you  recollect  Sleepy  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  do  ;  and  I  gave  you  the  name  because  you 
were  the  laziest  rascal  I  ever  knew.  And  that  young  lad, 
who  is  he  ?  " 

"  That  ?  "  said  Codes,  raising  his  lantern  to  the  level  of 
the  boy's  face.  "  Oh,  that 's  only  a  brat  his  father  has  sent 
here  to  be  taught  Greek  by  Euloge  Schneider. 

"  What  does  your  father  do,  little  man  ?  "  asked  Tetrell. 

"  He  is  judge  of  the  court  at  Besançon,  citizen,"  replied 
the  child. 

"  But  you  ought  to  know  Latin  before  you  learn  Greek." 

The  boy  drew  himself  up.     "  I  know  Latin,"  he  said. 

"  Know  Latin,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  Besançon  my  father  and  I  never  talk  anything 
else." 

"  The  devil  !  you  seem  to  me  pretty  far  advanced  for 
your  years.     How  old  are  you,  eleven  or  twelve  ?  " 

"Nearly  fourteen." 

"  And  what  makes  your  father  send  you  here  to  be  taught 
Greek  by  citizen  Euloge  Schneider  ?  " 

"My  father  isn't  as  strong  in  Greek  as  he  is  in  Latin. 
He  taught  me  all  he  knew  of  it  ;  and  now  he  sends  me  to 
citizen  Schneider,  who  speaks  it  fluently,  having  held  the 
Greek  professorship  at  Bonn.  Here  is  the  letter  my  father 
gave  me  for  him.  Besides,  he  wrote  him  a  week  ago  to  let 
him  know  I  was  coming  to-night  ;  and  it  was  he  who  took 


16  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

a  room  for  me  at  the  '  Lanterne  '  and  sent  citizen  Codes 
to  meet  me." 

So  saying,  the  lad  gave  a  letter  to  citizen  Tetrell,  to  prove 
that  what  he  said  was  trne. 

"  Here,  Sleepy,  bring  your  lantern,"  said  Tetrell. 

"Codes,  Codes,"  insisted  the  hostler,  obeying,  neverthe- 
less, the  order  given  him  under  the  other  name. 

**My  young  friend,"  said  Tetrell,  "let  me  tell  you  this 
letter  is  not  for  citizen  Schneider,  but  for  citizen 
Pichegru." 

"  Ah,  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  have  made  a  mistake  ;  my 
father  gave  me  two  letters,  and  I  must  have  given  you  the 
wrong  one." 

Taking  back  the  first  letter,  he  handed  up  the  second. 

"  Ah  !  this  time  it  is  all  right,"  said  Tetrell.  "  '  To  Citizen 
Euloge  Schneider,  public  prosecutor.'  " 

''  Eloge  Schneider,"  corrected  Codes,  thinking  the  baptis- 
mal name  of  the  public  prosecutor  was  lopped  of  some 
merit. 

"  Give  your  guide  a  lesson  in  Greek,"  said  the  leader  of 
the  patrol,  laughing  ;  "  tell  him  that  Euloge  is  a  name  which 
means  —  come,  young  man,  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  '  Eine  speaker,'  "  replied  the  boy. 

"  Well  answered,  faith  !  do  you  hear  that,  Sleepy  ?  " 

"  Codes,"  repeated  the  hostler  obstinately,  more  anxious 
about  his  own  name  than  that  of  the  public  prosecutor. 

During  this  time  Tetrell  had  drawn  the  boy  a  little  aside, 
and  bending  his  tall  form  so  as  to  reach  the  child's  ear,  he 
said,  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne  ?  " 

"Yes,  citizen,"  replied  the  lad. 

"You  will  find  there  two  of  your  townsmen,  who  have 
come  from  Besançon  to  defend  the  adjutant-general  Perrin, 
who  is  accused  of  treason." 

"  Yes,  citizens  Dumont  and  Ballu." 

"Tha,t  's  it.  Well,  tell  them  they  have  not  only  nothing 
to  hope  for  their  client  by  remaining  here,  but  it  will  not  be 


FKOM  LA  POSTE  TO  LA  LANTERNE.         17 

safe  for  themselves  to  do  so.     It  concerns  their  own  heads  ; 
you  understand  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  understand,"  said  the  boy. 
"  What  !  you  don't  see  that  Saint-Just  will   chop  their 
necks  as  if  they  were  a  pair  of  chickens   if  they  stay  ? 
Advise  them  to  cut  and  run,  and  the  sooner  the  better." 
"  From  you  ?  " 

'^  No,  mind  you  don't  say  that,  or  they  '11  make  me  pay 
for  all  the  broken  china,  —  or  rather,  all  that  is  n't  broken." 
Then,  straightening  up,  he  said  aloud,  "It  is  all  right; 
you  are  good  citizens,  you  can  go  your  way.  Forward, 
march  !  " 

And  citizen  Tetrell,  at  the  head  of  his  patrol,  left  citizen 
Codes  proud  of  having  talked  for  ten  minutes  with  a  man 
of  that  importance,  and  citizen  Charles  much  troubled  at 
the  confidence  just  made  to  him.  The  pair  walked  on  in 
silence. 

The  weather  was  dull  and  murky,  as  it  mostly  is  in 
December  in  the  north  and  east  of  France  ;  and  though  the 
moon  was  nearly  at  the  full,  heavy  black  clouds,  racing 
along  like  the  waves  at  the  equinox,  obscured  it  constantly. 
In  order  to  reach  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne,  situated  in 
what  was  formerly  called  the  rue  de  l'Archevêché  and  is  now 
the  rue  de  la  Déesse-Raison,  it  was  necessary  to  cross  the 
market-place,  then  occupied  by  a  scaffold,  against  which  the 
lad,  in  his  absorption,  came  near  jostling. 

"Take  care,  citizen  Charles,"  said  the  hostler,  laughing; 
-'* don't  knock  over  the  guillotine." 

The  boy  gave  a  cry  of  horror  and  started  back. 

Just  then  the  moon  shone  out  brilliantly  for  a  few 
seconds.  The  horrible  instrument  was  visible,  and  a  pale, 
sad  gleam  struck  athwart  the  knife. 

"  Good  God  !  do  they  really  use  it  ?  "  said  the  boy,  draw- 
ing closer  to  Codes. 

"Use  it!"  cried  the  hostler,  joyously;  " T  should  think 
so,  and  every  day  too  !  To-da}^  it  was  Mother  Raisin's 
turn.     Though  she  was  eighty  years  old  she  had  to  go 

VOL.    I. — 2 


18  THE    FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

under.  She  called  out  to  the  executioner  :  '  It  is  u't  worth 
while  to  kill  me  ;  wait  a  bit  and  I  '11  die  of  myself.'  But 
that  did  n't  help  her  ;  they  tipped  her  off  as  if  she  was  but 
twenty." 

"  What  had  she  done  ?  " 

"  Given  a  bit  of  bread  to  a  famished  Austrian.  She  said 
as  he  did  u't  ask  for  it  in  German  she  thought  he  was  a 
townsman." 

The  poor  lad,  who  had  never  before  left  his  father's 
house,  or  known  so  many  diverse  emotions  pressed  into  one 
day,  felt  chilled  to  the  bone.  Was  it  the  weather,  or  was 
it  Codes'  talk  ?  Casting  another  look  at  the  instrument  of 
death,  which  the  moon,  again  veiling  herself,  was  sending 
back  into  darkness  like  a  phantom  of  the  night,  he  said, 
shivering,  — 

"  Are  we  far  from  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne  ?  " 

"Faith,  no!  for  here  it  is;"  replied  Codes,  pointing  to 
an  enormous  lantern  hanging  above  a  porte-cochere,  and 
lighting  the  street  for  fifty  feet  around  it. 

"  I  am  glad,"  muttered  the  lad,  his  teeth  chattering. 

Then,  running  the  rest  of  the  way,  which  was  not  more 
than  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  he  opened  the  door  of  the  inn, 
which  opened  on  the  street,  and  sprang,  with  a  cry  of  satis- 
faction, into  the  kitchen,  the  immense  chimney  of  which 
had  a  blazing  fire.  To  this  cry  another  cry  responded,  — 
that  of  Madame  Teutch  ;  who,  though  she  had  never  seen 
him,  was  certain,  from  the  appearance  of  Codes  with  his 
lantern  on  the  sill  of  the  door,  that  this  was  the  youth 
entrusted  to  her  care. 


THE   CITOYENNE   TEUTCH.  19 

IL 

THE   CITOYENNE    TEUTCH. 

The  citoyenne  Teutch,  a  stout,  rosy  Alsatian  from  thirty 
to  thirty-five  years  of  age,  had  a  truly  maternal  affection 
for  the  travellers  with  whom  Providence  provided  her,  more 
especially  if  they  happened  to  be  young  and  pretty  children 
about  the  age  of  the  boy  who  had  just  come  to  her  kitclien 
tire,  where,  by  the  bye,  he  was  alone.  She  went  to  him  at 
once,  and  seeing  him  stretch  his  feet  and  hands  to  the  blaze, 
and  continue  to  shudder  as  if  cold,  slie  cried  out,  — 

"  Ah,  you  dear  little  fellow  !  what  makes  you  shudder 
like  that  ?     Heavens  !  how  pale  he  is  !  " 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Codes,  in  his  coarse  Avay  ;  "  he  shud- 
ders because  he 's  cold,  and  he  is  pale  because  he  went  head 
foremost  into  the  guillotine.  It  seems  he  had  never  seen 
one,  and  it  scared  him.    They  are  such  fools,  children  are  !  " 

*'Hold  your  tongue,  you  idiot!  " 

"  Thank  you,  bourgeoise  ;  is  that  my  pay  ?  " 

"No,  my  friend,"  said  the  lad,  taking  some  money  from 
his  pocket;  "here  it  is." 

"Thank  you,  citizen,"  said  Codes,  lifting  his  hat  Avith 
one  hand  and  holding  out  the  other.  "  Hang  it  !  —  silver 
money  !  So  there  is  some  still  in  France  !  1  thought  it 
was  all  gone  ;  but  I  see  now,  as  Tetrell  said,  that  was  only  a 
rumor  those  aristocrats  have  set  going." 

"  You  go  and  attend  to  j'our  horses,"  cried  the  citoyenne 
Teutch,  "  and  leave  us  in  peace  !  " 

Codes  went  off  grumbling. 

Madame  Teutch  sat  down,  and,  in  spite  of  some  opposi- 
tion from  Charles,  she  took  him  on  her  knees.  We  have 
said  he  was  fourteen,  but  he  looked  to  be  hardly  ten  or 
eleven. 


20  THE    FIRST    EEFUBLIC. 

"  Listen  to  me,  my  little  friend,"  she  said  to  him  ;  "  what 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  is  for  your  good.  If  you  have  silver 
and  gold,  don't  let  anybody  see  it.  Change  some  of  it  for 
assignats.  Assignats  being  legal  tender,  and  the  louis  d'or 
being  worth  five  hundred  francs,  you  will  get  a  great  profit, 
and  you  won't  be  suspected  of  aristocracy."  Then,  passing 
to  another  set  of  ideas,  she  added,  ''  Poor  little  fellow,  how 
cold  his  hands  are  !  "  and  she  held  them  to  the  fire  as  we 
do  those  of  children.  "  jSTow,  the  next  thing  to  be  done," 
she  said,  "  is  to  have  some  supper." 

"Oh!  as  for  that,  no,  madame,  and  thank  you  very 
much  ;  we  dined  at  Erbstein,  and  I  'm  not  a  bit  hungry. 
I  would  rather  go  to  bed  ;  I  feel  as  if  I  should  n't  got  com- 
pletely warm  till  I  am  in  my  bed." 

"  Well,  then,  they  shall  warm  it,  and  with  sugar  too  ; 
and  when  you  are  once  in  bed  you  must  have  a  cup  of  — 
what  ?  milk,  or  broth?  " 

"  Milk,  if  you  please." 

''  Milk,  so  be  it  !  Poor  little  fellow,  he  is  hardly  weaned, 
yet  here  he  is,  travelling  along  the  highways  all  alone,  like 
a  man.     Ah  !  we  live  in  dreadful  times  !  " 

And  she  took  Charles  in  both  arms,  as  if  he  were  a  child, 
put  him  on  a  chair,  and  went  to  see  on  the  key-board  what 
room  she  could  give  him. 

"  Let  me  think  !  "  she  said.  "  No.  5,  that  will  do  —  no, 
the  room  is  too  big  and  the  window  does  n't  shut  tight  ; 
ho  'd  be  cold.  No.  9,  no,  that  has  two  beds.  Ah  !  14  ! 
that 's  the  very  one  to  suit  him  ;  a  big  closet,  and  a  bed 
M'ith  curtains  to  keep  him  from  draughts,  and  a  good  chim- 
ney that  does  n't  smoke,  with  an  Infant  Jesus  over  it  — 
yes,  that  '11  keep  him  safe.     Gretchen  !  Gretchen  !  " 

A  handsome  Alsatian  girl,  about  twenty,  dressed  in  the 
charming  costume  which  somewhat  resembles  that  of  the 
women  of  Aries,  ran  in  when  called. 

"  What  is  it,  mistress  ?  "  she  asked  in  German. 

''  Get  No.  14  ready  for  this  cherub  ;  take  the  finest  sheets 
and  see  they  are  dry.     I  '11  beat  him  up  an  egg  in  milk." 


THE   CITOYENNE   TEUTCH.  21 

Gretclien  lighted  a  candle  and  prepared  to  obey.  Madame 
Teutch  returned  to  Charles. 

'*'  Do  you  understand  German  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  madame  ;  but  if  I  stay  long  in  Strasbourg,  which 
seems  probable,  I  hope  to  learn  it." 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  gave  you  No.  14  ?  "' 

"  Yes,  I  heard  you  say  why  in  your  monologue." . 

"  Heavenly  Father  !  my  monologue  !  and  what 's  that  ?  " 

"Madame,  it  is  a  French  word  made  from  two  Greek 
words  :  nionos  which  means  alone,  and  logos  which  signifies 
sjjeech.^'' 

"  And  you  know  Greek  at  your  age,  dear  child  !  "  said 
IMadame  Teutch,  clasping  her  hands. 

"  Oh  !  very  little,  madame  ;  it  is  to  learn  more  of  it  that 
I  have  come  to  Strasbourg." 

"  You  came  to  Strasbourg  to  learn  Greek  ?  " 

■'  Yes,  with  M.  Euloge  Schneider." 

Madame  Teutch  shook  her  head. 

"Ah  !  madame,  he  knows  Greek  like  Demosthenes,"  said 
Charles,  thinking  that  Madame  Teutch  denied  the  learning 
of  his  future  instructor. 

"  I  don't  say  he  does  n't  ;  I  say  that,  well  as  he  may 
know  it,  he  has  n't  time  to  teach  you." 

"  What  is  he  doing,  then  ?  " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  should  like  to  know." 

Madame  Teutch  lowered  her  voice. 

"  He  cuts  off  heads,"  she  said. 

Charles  quivered. 

"  He  cuts  —  off  —  heads  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Did  n't  you  know  he  was  the  public  prosecutor  ?  Ah  ! 
my  poor  boy,  your  father  chose  you  a  strange  teacher." 

The  lad  was  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 

"  Was  it  he,"  he  asked,  "  who  had  old  Mother  Raisin's 
head  cut  off  to-day  ?  " 

"  No  ;  that  was  the  Propaganda  !  " 

"  What  is  the  Propaganda  ?  " 


22  THE    FIKST    KEPUBLIC. 

"It  is  a  society  for  the  propagation  of  revolutionary 
ideas.  They  all  work  on  their  own  lines  :  citizen  Schneider 
as  public  prosecutor  ;  citizen  Saint-Just  as  representative 
of  the  people  ;  and  citizen  Tetrell  as  the  head  of  the 
Propaganda." 

"  Is  one  guillotine  enough  for  them  all  ?  "  said  the  youth, 
with  a  smile  that  was  older  than  his  years. 
"  They  each  have  one." 

'•'Ah  !  "  said  the  boy,  "my  father  certainly  did  not  know 
all  that  when  he  sent  me  here." 

He  reflected  a  moment;  then,  with  a  firmness  which 
showed  precocious  courage,  he  said  :  "  But,  since  I  am 
here,  I  shall  stay."  Turning  to  another  idea,  he  added  : 
"You  were  saying,  Madame  Teutch,  that  you  gave  me 
No.  14  because  it  was  small,  and  had  a  bed  with  curtains, 
and  did  not  smoke." 

"  And  for  another  reason,  my  little  man." 
"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  Because  in  No.  15  you  will  have  a  young  companion,  — 
a  little  older  than  you,  but  tliat  does  n't  signify  ;  you  '11 
divert  his  mind." 
"  Is  he  unhappy  ?  " 

"Yes,  very.  He  is  hardly  fifteen,  but  he  is  already  a 
man.  He  is  here  on  a  melancholy  business.  His  father, 
who  was  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine 
before  citizen  Pichegru,  is  accused  of  treason!  He  used 
to  lodge  here,  dear  man  ;  and  I  '11  bet  anytliing  they  like 
that  he  is  no  more  guilty  than  you  or  I.  But  he's  a  ci- 
devant  ;  and  nobody  trusts  ci-devants,  you  know.  Well,  as  I 
was  saying,  the  young  man  is  here  to  copy  the  papers  which 
ought  to  prove  his  father  innocent.  He  is  a  good,  pious 
boy,  you  see,  and  he  works  at  his  task  from  morning  till 
night." 

"  I  could  help  him,"  said  Charles  ;  "  I  write  a  very  good 
hand." 

"  That's  good  ;  that's  what  I  call  being  a  comrade."  Antl 
Madame  Teutch,  in  her  enthusiasm,  kissed  her  guest. 


THE   CITOYENNE   TEUTCH.  23 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  "  asked  Charles. 

"  He  is  called  citizen  Eugène." 

"  Eugène  is  only  a  first  name." 

"  Yes.  He  has  a  surname,  and  a  queer  name,  too,  if  I 
could  only  remember  it.  His  father  was  Marquis  —  Mar- 
quis —  stop,  wait  —  " 

"  I  am  waiting,  Madame  Teutch,"  said  the  boy,  laughing. 

"That's  only  a  way  of  speaking;  you  know  what  I 
mean.  But  the  name  is  —  is  —  what  they  put  on  the  backs 
of  horses —  Harnais  [harness].  Yes,  yes,  that's  it, — 
Beauharnais  !  —  Eugène  de  Beauharnais.  I  think  it  is 
because  of  his  de  that  they  call  him  citizen  Eugène, 
short  off." 

These  remarks  brought  to  the  lad's  mind  what  Tetrell 
had  said  to  him. 

"By  the  bye,  Madame  Teutch,"  he  said,  "have  you 
two  commissioners  of  the  commune  of  Besançon  in  the 
house  ?  " 

"Yes;  they  have  come  to  defend  your  townsman  the 
Adjutant-General  Perrin." 

"  Will  they  get  him  off  ?  " 

"  Bah  !  he  has  done  better  than  wait  for  the  decision." 

"  What  has  he  done  ?  " 

"  Escaped  last  night." 

"  And  they  have  n't  caught  him  !  ^ 

"  ^nTo,  —  not  yet." 

"  I  am  glad.  He  is  a  friend  of  my  father  ;  and  I  liked 
liim,  too,  myself." 

"  Don't  say  that  here." 

"  But  the  other  two  ?  " 

"  Messrs.  Dumont  and  Ballu  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Why  do  they  stay  here  if  the  man  they  came  to 
defend  is  out  of  prison  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  sentenced  for  contumacy,  and  they  want  to 
defend  him  absent  as  if  he  were  present." 

"  Oh  !  "  muttered  the  boy,  "  I  understand  what  Tetrell 
meant."    Then,  aloud,  "  Can  I  see  them  to-night  ?  "  he  said. 


24  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

"Who?" 

"Citizens  Dumout  and  Ballu." 

"  Certainly  you  can  see  them,  if  you  like  to  sit  up  ;  but 
they  've  gone  to  the  club  of  the  '  Rights  of  Man,'  and  they 
are  sure  not  to  come  in  before  two  in  the  morning." 

"  I  'm  too  tired  to  sit  up,"  said  the  lad  ;  "  but  you  can 
give  them  a  note  from  me  as  soon  as  they  come  in,  can't 
you  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  To  them  themselves  ;  into  their  own  hands  ?  " 

"To  them  themselves  ;  into  their  own  hands." 

"  Where  can  I  write  ?  " 

"  In  the  office,  if  you  have  warmed  yourself." 

"  Yes,  I  have." 

Madame  Teutch  took  a  lamp  from  the  table  and  carried 
it  to  a  desk  iu  a  little  office  railed  off  from  the  kitchen, 
like  a  bird-cage.  The  youth  followed  her:  and  there,  on 
paper  bearing  the  stamp  of  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne,  he 
wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"  A  townsman,  who  knows  on  good  authority  that  you  will  be 
arrested  soon,  advises  you  to  return  to  Besançon  at  once." 

Then  folding  and  sealing  the  note,  he  gave  it  to  Madame 
Teutch. 

"But  you  didn't  sign  it,"  she  said. 

"  There 's  no  necessity  ;  you  can  tell  them  yourself  that 
the  paper  came  from  me." 

"  Yes,  I  will." 

"  If  they  are  still  here  to-morrow  morning,  please  let  me 
manage  to  see  them  before  they  go." 

"Surely  you  shall." 

"  There,  it 's  done  !  "  said  Gretchen,  coming  in,  her  sabots 
clacking. 

"  Is  the  bed  made  ?  "  asked  Madame  Teutch. 

"Yes,  mistress." 

"  The  fire  lighted  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


THE    CITOYENNE    TEUTCH.  25 

"Then  heat  the  warming-pan,  and  take  citizen  Charles 
to  his  room.     I  '11  go  and  beat  up  his  egg." 

Citizen  Charles  was  so  tired  that  he  followed  Gretchen 
and  her  warming-pan  at  once.  Ten  minutes  after  he  was 
in  bed,  Madame  Teutch  appeared  bearing  the  beaten  egg, 
which  she  made  the  sleepy  boy  drink  down,  tapping  him  on 
each  cheek  ;  then  she  tucked  him  up  maternally,  wished 
him  good-night,  and  went  away,  taking  the  candle  with 
her. 

But  the  wishes  of  the  worthy  woman  were  only  half  com- 
plied with  ;  for  at  six  in  the  morning  all  the  guests  at  the 
hôtel  de  la  Lanterne  were  awakened  by  the  noise  of  voices 
and  the  rattle  of  arms  ;  soldiers  grounded  their  muskets  on 
the  pavement  outside,  while  hasty  steps  rushed  through  the 
corridors,  and  all  the  doors  were  violently  flung  open  one 
after  another. 

Charles  sat  up  in  bed  and  listened.  As  he  did  so  his 
room  was  suddenly  filled  with  light  and  noise.  Policemen, 
accompanied  by  gendarmes,  rushed  into  the  room,  pulled 
the  boy  brutally  out  of  bed,  asked  his  name,  his  Christian 
name,  what  he  was  doing  in  Strasl^ourg,  when  he  had  come  ; 
looked  under  the  bed,  up  the  chimney,  into  the  closets,  and 
went  out  as  they  came,  with  a  rush,  leaving  the  boy,  clad 
in  his  shirt,  standing  quite  bewildered  in  the  middle  of 
the  room.  It  was  evident  that  a  domiciliary  visit  (very 
common  in  those  days)  had  been  made  to  the  hotel,  but 
that  Charles  was  not  its  object.  Perceiving  this,  the  boy 
thought  he  had  better  get  into  bed,  after  closing  the  door 
of  his  room,  and  go  to  sleep  if  he  could. 

That  resolution  taken  and  accomplished,  he  had  hardly 
drawn  the  sheet  over  his  nose  when,  the  noise  in  the  house 
having  ceased,  the  door  of  his  room  opened  and  gave 
entrance  to  Madame  Teutch,  coquettishly  arrayed  in  a 
white  wrapper,  and  holding  a  candlestick  in  her  hand. 
She  advanced  softly,  having  opened  and  closed  the  door 
without  any  noise,  and  made  a  sign  to  Charles  —  who  rose 
on  his  elbow  and   looked  at  her  amazed  —  not  to   say  a 


26  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

word.  The  boy  already  trained  to  this  life  of  vicissitudes, 
although  his  training  had  begun  only  the  night  before, 
followed  this  silent  advice,  and  kept  perfectly  quiet. 

The  citoyenne  Teutch  then  put  her  candlestick  on  the 
fireplace,  took  a  chair,  still  with  the  same  precautions, 
brought  it  close  to  the  lad's  pillow,  and  sat  down. 

"Well,  my  little  friend,"  she  said,  "you've  had  a  great 
fright,  have  n't  you  ?  " 

"Not  much  of  one,  madame,"  responded  Charles  ;  "for 
I  knew  very  well  it  was  n't  I  they  were  after." 

"You  warned  your  townsmen  just  in  time  !  " 

"  Ah  !  was  it  they  the  police  were  hunting  for  ?  " 

"Yes,  just  so.  By  great  good  luck  they  came  in  at 
two  o'clock,  and  I  gave  them  your  note.  They  read  it  twice  ; 
then  they  asked  who  gave  it  to  me.  I  told  them  it  was 
you,  and  who  you  were  ;  then  they  consulted  together  an 
instant,  and  said,  *  Come,  we  had  better  go  !  '  and  they 
went  up  that  minute  to  pack  their  trunks,  and  sent  Sleepy 
to  see  if  there  were  any  seats  to  be  had  in  the  diligence 
that  starts  for  Besançon  at  five  in  the  morning.  Luckily 
there  were  two  places  left.  Sleepy  engaged  them  ;  but  to 
make  sure  that  nobody  else  got  them,  the  two  gentlemen  left 
here  at  four  o'clock,  and  they  had  been  an  hour  on  the  road 
to  Besançon  when  the  police  came  and  rapped  at  the  door. 
But  just  think  how  careless  they  were  ! — they  left  the  little 
note  you  wrote  behind  them,  and  the  police  have  pounced 
on  it." 

"  Oh,  that  does  n't  matter  ;  I  did  n't  sign  it,  and  nobody 
in  Strasbourg  knows  my  handwriting." 

"True,  but  the  note  was  written  on  paper  with  our 
heading  on  it  ;  so  they  fell  upon  me,  and  wanted  to  know 
who  had  written  it." 

"  Oh,  goodness  !  " 

"  Of  course  you  know  I  'd  have  my  heart  torn  out  sooner 
than  tell  them  ;  poor  dear  darling,  they  'd  have  dragged 
you  off  !  I  answered  that  when  travellers  ask-  for  paper 
it  is  taken  to  their  rooms,  and  as  there  are  always  some 


THE    CITOYENNE    TEUTCH.  27 

sixty  or  more  travellers  here,  I  couldn't  possibly  tell 
which  one  had  used  my  paper  to  write  a  note.  Then  they 
talked  of  arresting  me.  I  answered  that  I  was  ready  to 
go  with  them,  but  that  would  n't  do  them  any  good,  as  I 
wasn't  the  man  citizen  Saint-Just  had  sent  them  after. 
They  saw  the  truth  of  that  argument  and  gave  in, 
saying,  'That's  very  well  for  to-day,  but  you'll  see 
another  time!'  I  said,  'Well,  search  the  house;'  and 
they  searched  !  1  've  come  to  warn  you  not  to  say  one  word, 
and  if  they  accuse  you,  swear  by  all  the  devils  that  you 
know  nothing  of  that  note." 

*'  When  it  comes  to  that  point  1  '11  see  about  it.  Mean- 
time I  'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,  Madame  Teutch." 

"  Ah  !  one  more  bit  of  advice,  my  dear  little  man  ;  when 
we  are  alone  you  can  call  me  Madame  Teutch,  —  that's  all 
right  and  proper;  but  before  the  world,  say  citoyenne 
Teutch  plain  up  and  down.  I  don't  know  that  Sleepy 
would  do  a  bad  deed,  but  he 's  a  zealot,  and  when  fools 
are  zealots  I  don't  trust  'em." 

After  delivering  that  axiom,  which  proved  both  her 
prudence  and  her  perspicacity,  Madame  Teutch  rose,  put 
out  the  candle  on  the  chimney-piece,  inasmuch  as  morning 
had  dawned  since  she  came  there,  and  left  the  room. 


28  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 


III. 
EULOGE   SCHNEIDER. 

Before  leaving  Besancon,  Charles  had  asked  his  father  to 
explain  to  him  tlie  usual  habits  of  his  teacher,  Euloge 
Schneider.  He  knew  that  he  rose  every  morning  at  six 
o'clock  and  worked  till  eight  ;  that  at  eight  he  breakfasted, 
smoked  a  pipe,  and  then  worked  again  until  he  went  out 
to  walk  between  one  and  two  o'clock.  Charles  considered 
it  advisable,  therefore,  not  to  go  to  sleep  again  ;  daylight 
comes  late  at  Strasbourg  in  December,  where  the  narrow 
streets  delay  it  from  entering  the  lower  floors  of  the  tall 
houses.  It  was  then  about  half-past  seven,  and  allowing 
that  it  took  him  half  an  hour  to  dress  and  go  from  the  hôtel 
de  la  Lanterne  to  the  public  prosecutor's  house,  Charles 
saw  that  he  would  arrive  there  just  as  his  tutoi-  was  going 
to  breakfast. 

He  had  just  finished  dressing  himself,  as  elegantly  as 
his  wardrobe  would  allow,  when  Madame  Teutch  came  in. 

"Merciful  powers  !"  she  cried,  "are  you  going  to  a 
wedding  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  lad,  "  I  am  going  to  Monsieur  Schneider's." 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  child?  you  look  like 
an  aristocrat.  If  you  Avere  eighteen  instead  of  thirteen, 
they  would  cut  your  head  off.  Here  !  off  with  those  fine 
clothes,  and  get  into  your  travelling  suit,  the  things  you 
had  on  yesterday  ;  they  are  good  enough  for  the  monk  of 
Cologne." 

And  the  citoyenne  Teutch  with  a  few  twirls  of  her 
hand  whisked  off  one  suit  and  put  on  the  other,  while 
her  young  lodger,  amazed  at  her  rapid  actions,  let  her 
do  it. 


EULOGE    SCHNEIDER.  29 

"  There,  now  !  "  she  said,  "  go  and  see  your  man,  but  be 
sure  you  call  him  'citizen,'  and  not  'monsieur,'  or  in  spite 
of  your  fine  recommendations,  you  may  come  to  grief." 

The  young  fellow  thanked  her  for  her  good  advice  and 
asked  if  she  had  any  more  to  give. 

"No,"  she  said,  shaking  her  head,  "unless  it  is  to  come 
l)ack  as  soon  as  you  can  ;  because  I  am  going  to  prepare  for 
you  and  your  neighbor  in  Xo.  15  a  nice  little  breakfast 
such  as  he,  ci-devant  that  he  is,  never  tasted.  There, 
now,  off  with  you  !  " 

With  that  adorable  motherliness  which  Nature  puts  into 
the  heart  of  every  woman,  jSIadame  Teutch  felt  an  actual 
tenderness  for  her  new  guest,  and  assumed  to  herself  the 
management  of  his  affairs  ;  he,  on  the  other  hand,  being 
still  young  and  feeling  the  need  of  a  woman's  kindly  affec- 
tion, which  makes  life  so  much  easier,  was  quite  disposed  to 
follow  her  advice  as  he  vrould  have  done  that  of  a  mother. 
He  let  her  kiss  him  on  both  cheeks,  and  after  learning  how 
to  find  his  way  to  the  house  of  citizen  Euloge  Schneider,  he 
left  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne  to  make  his  first  step  into 
what  the  Germans  call  the  '•  vast  world,"  —  that  step  on 
which  the  whole  future  life  may  depend. 

He  passed  the  cathedral,  where,  for  want  of  looking  about 
him,  he  came  near  being  killed.  The  head  of  a  marble 
saint  fell  at  his  feet,  followed  immediately  by  a  bust  of  the 
Virgin.  He  turned  to  the  place  whence  the  two  projectiles 
came,  and  there  beneath  the  portal  of  a  magnificent  edifice 
he  saw,  astride  the  shoulders  of  a  gigantic  apostle,  a  man 
with  a  hammer  in  his  hand  making  great  devastation 
among  the  saints,  fragments  of  whom  had  rolled  to  the 
boy's  feet.  A  dozen  men  were  standing  about,  laughing  and 
applauding  the  profanation. 

The  boy  continued  his  way,  went  through  the  grove, 
stopped  at  a  modest-looking  house,  ran  up  three  steps,  and 
knocked  at  a  little  door.  A  glum  old  servant-woman  opened 
it,  and  put  him  through  a  series  of  questions.  When  he 
had  answered  them  all,  she  showed  him,  still  grumbling, 
into  the  dining-room,  remarking,  — 


30  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Wait  there  ;  citizen  Schneider  is  coming  to  breakfast, 
and  you  can  speak  to  him,  as  3'ou  pretend  you  have  some- 
thing to  say." 

Left  alone,  Charles  threw  a  rapid  glance  round  the  room. 
It  was  very  plain,  panelled  with  planks,  and  contained  no 
ornaments  whatever  except  two  crossed  sabres. 

The  terrible  agent  of  the  Revolutionary  committee  of  the 
Lower  Rhine  now  entered  the  room.  He  passed  close  to 
the  lad  without  seeing  him,  or  at  any  rate  without  showing 
by  word  or  look  that  he  did  see  him,  and  sat  down  at  the 
table  where  he  instantly  attacked  a  pyramid  of  oysters, 
flanked  on  one  side  by  a  dish  of  anchovies  and  on  the 
other  by  a  jar  of  olives.  Let  us  employ  the  slight  pause 
that  ensued  to  give  in  a  few  words  the  physical  and  moral 
portrait  of  the  strange  man  to  whom  Charles  had  been 
consigned. 

Jean-Georges  Schneider,  who  had  given  to  himself  —  or 
taken,  as  the  reader  pleases  —  the  name  of  Euloge,  was  a  man 
of  thirty-seven  or  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  ugly,  stout,  short, 
common,  with  round  limbs,  round  shoulders,  and  a  round 
head.  That  which  first  struck  the  eye  in  his  unpleasant 
appearance  was  the  hair  cut  short  like  a  brush,  while  at  the 
same  time  his  enormous  eyebrows  were  allowed  to  grow  as 
"hey  pleased  in  length  and  thickness.  These  bushy  brows, 
which  were  black  and  tufted,  overshadowed  a  pair  of  tawny, 
savage  eyes,  fringed  with  red  lashes.  The  man  had  begun 
life  in  the  Church,  hence  his  nickname  of  the  "monk  of 
Cologne,"  which  his  assumed  name  of  Euloge  had  not  done 
away  with.  Born  in  Franconia,  of  poor  agricultural  parents, 
he  owed  to  the  good  disposition  he  showed  in  childhood  the 
protection  of  the  vicar  of  his  parish,  who  taught  him  the 
rudiments  of  Latin,  and  sent  him  to  the  Jesuit  school  at 
Wurzburg,  where  his  rapid  progress  won  him,  at  the  end  of 
three  years,  admission  to  the  Academy.  Expelled  for  bad 
conduct,  he  fell  into  the  depths  of  poverty,  and  finally 
entered  the  convent  of  the  Franciscans  at  Bamberg.  When 
his   studies   were   ended  he   was   thought    competent    for 


EULOGE   SCHNEIDER.  31 

employment  as  professor  of  Hebrew,  and  was  sent  to  Augs- 
bourg.  Thence  he  was  summoned  in  1786  to  the  post  of 
preacher  at  the  court  of  Duke  Charles  of  Wurtemberg. 
He  preached  with  great  success,  and  devoted  three  fourths 
of  his  salary  to  his  needy  family.  It  is  said  that  he  there 
joined  the  sect  of  Illuminati,  organized  by  Weishaupt, 
which  explains  the  ardor  with  which  he  adopted  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  French  Revolution.  At  this  epoch  in  history, 
full  of  ambition,  impatient  of  control,  goaded  by  ardent 
passions,  he  published  so  free  and  liberal  a  catechism  that 
he  was  forced  to  cross  the  Ehine  and  settle  in  Strasbourg, 
where  he  was  appointed,  17th  of  June,  1791,  episcopal  vicar 
and  dean  of  the  faculty  of  theology  ;  after  that,  lie  not  only 
did  not  refuse  to  take  the  civic  oath,  but  he  preached  in  the 
Cathedral,  mingling,  with  extraordinary  fire,  political  ideas 
and  religious  instruction. 

Before  the  10th  of  August,  all  the  while  defending  him- 
self as  a  republican,  he  had  advocated  the  overthrow  of  the 
king.  After  that  date  he  fought  the  royalist  party  with 
desperate  courage,  that  party  having  strong  hold  in  Stras- 
bourg, and  especially  in  its  neighborhood.  This  struggle 
led  to  his  being  elected,  towards  the  end  of  1792,  mayor 
of  Haguenau.  Finally,  having  been  appointed,  February  19, 
179,3,  public  prosecutor  to  the  courts  of  the  Lower  lihine, 
he  was  invested  on  the  5th  of  the  following  May  with  the 
title  of  Commissioner  to  the  Revolutionary  tribunal  of 
Strasbourg.  It  was  then  that  the  terrible  lust  for  blood  to 
which  his  violent  nature  drove  him  first  showed  itself. 
Impelled  by  a  feverish  activity,  when  victims  lacked  him  in 
Strasbourg,  he  roamed  through  the  neighborhood  with  his 
terrible  escort,  followed  by  the  guillotine  and  the  execu- 
tioner. At  the  slightest  provocation  he  would  stop  in  the 
towns  and  villages,  where  they  had  trusted  never  to  see  the 
fatal  instrument.  There  he  would  open  a  court,  accuse, 
condemn,  and  execute,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  bloody  orgy, 
he  would  declare  the  assignats  (then  worth  fifteen  per  cent 
of  their  nominal  value)  at  par,  and  furnish  the  army  with 


82  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

more  grain  than  all  the  other  commissioners  of  the  dis 
vrict  put  together.  From  the  5th  of  November  to  the 
llth  of  December  (the  day  on  which  Charles  arrived  in 
Strasbourg)  Euloge  Schneider  had  put  to  death,  either  in 
Strasbourg,  Mutzig,  Barr,  Obernai,  Eppig,  or  Schlestadt, 
thirty-one  persons. 

Though  our  young  friend  was  ignorant  of  most  of  these 
details,  and  more  especially  the  last,  it  was  not  without  a 
feeling  of  terror  that  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the 
terrible  proconsul.  But,  reflecting  that  he  had,  unlike  the 
test,  a  protector  in  the  man  who  threatened  others,  he 
recovered  his  composure,  and  sought  for  some  means  to 
begin  a  conversation  ;  the  oysters  occurred  to  him. 

"  Rara  concha  in  terris,''^  he  said  with  a  smile,  in  his  thin, 
boyish  voice. 

Euloge  turned  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  I  am  an  aristocrat,  you  brat  ?  " 

"I  don't  mean  anything  at  all,  citizen  Schneider;  but 
I  know  you  are  a  learned  man,  and  I  wanted  to  attract 
your  attention  to  me,  a  poor  little  fellow  you  have  n't 
deigned  to  notice  ;  so  I  said  a  few  words  in  a  language  you 
know,  and  quoted  an  author  you  like." 

''Faith,  that's  true;  and  well  said,  all  that." 

"As  I  come  recommended  to  EiXloge  rather  than  to  citi- 
zen Schneider,  I  ought  to  be  a  good  speaker,  so  as  to  be 
worthy  of  the  recommendation." 

"  And  who  has  recommended  you  to  me  ?  "  said  Schneider, 
turning  his  chair  so  as  to  face  the  boy. 

"  My  father  ;  and  here  's  his  letter." 

Euloge  took  the  letter,  and  recognized  the  writing. 

"  Ah  ha  !  "  he  said,  ''  from  an  old  friend."  Then  he  read 
the  letter  from  end  to  end.  "  Your  father,"  he  continued, 
"  is  one  of  the  men  of  our  day  who  write  the  purest  Latin. 
Will  you  breakfast  with  me  ?  "  he  added,  holding  out  his 
hand  to  the  boy. 

Charles  gave  a  glance  at  the  table,  and  no  doubt  his  face 
showed  the  want  of  liking  he  had  for  a  repast  so  luxurious 
and  yet  so  frugal. 


EULOGE    SCHNEIDER.  33 

«  No  ;  I  understand,"  said  Schneider,  laughing  ;  "  a  young 
stomach  like  yours  wants  something  more  solid  than 
anchovies  and  olives.  Come  to  dinner  ;  I  have  three 
friends  to  dinner  to-day  ;  if  your  father  were  here  he  would 
make  the  fourth,  and  you  shall  take  his  place.  Drink  a 
glass  of  beer  to  your  father's  health." 

"  Ah,  that  indeed,  with  pleasure,"  cried  the  boy,  taking 
up  a  glass  and  touching  it  to  that  of  Schneider.  But  as 
the  beaker  was  a  huge  one,  the  boy  could  only  half 
empty  it. 

"  Well,"  said  Schneider,  "  go  on  !  " 

"  I  '11  drink  the  rest  by  and  by  to  the  health  of  the 
Kepublic,"  said  the  boy  ;  "  but  the  glass  is  too  big  for  one 
of  my  size  to  drain  at  a  draught." 

Schneider  looked  at  him  with  a  certain  kindness. 

"  Faith  !  he  's  a  pretty  boy,"  he  said. 

Just  then  the  old  servant-woman  brought  in  the  news- 
papers, German  and  French. 

"  Do  you  know  German  ?  "  asked  Schneider. 

"  Xot  a  word." 

"  Very  good,  I  '11  teach  you." 

"With  Greek?" 

"  Greek  !  do  you  want  to  learn  Greek  ?  " 

"That 's  my  great  desire." 

"  Well,  we  '11  try  to  satisfy  it.  Here,  take  the  '  Moniteur 
Français,'  and  read  it,  while  I  read  the  '  Vienna  Gazette.'  " 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  time  while  each  read  his  paper. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  "  cried  Euloge  ;  then  he  read  aloud  :  "  '  Stras- 
bourg is  probably  taken  by  this  time,  and  our  victorious 
troops  are  on  the  march  to  Paris.'  They  are  reckoning 
without  Pichegru,  without  Saint-Just,  without  me  !  " 

"  •'  We  are  masters  of  the  outposts  of  Toulon,'  "  read 
Charles  from  his  paper,  "  '  and  in  three  or  four  days  we 
shall  enter  the  town,  and  the  Republic  will  be  avenged.'  " 

"  W^hat  is  the  date  of  that  '  Moniteur  '  ?  "  asked 
Schneider. 

"The  8th,"  replied  the  boy. 

VOL.    I. — 3 


34  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

"What  else  does  it  say  ?  " 

"  '  Kobespierre,  during  the  session  of  the  6th/  "  read 
Charles,  "  '  produced  an  answer  to  the  manifesto  of  the 
Allied  Powers.  The  Convention  ordered  it  to  be  printed, 
and  also  translated  into  every  language.'  " 

"  What  else  ?  "  said  Schneider. 

The  boy  continued:  -"On  the  7th,  Billaud-Varenne 
announced  that  the  rebels  of  La  Vendée,  in  an  assault  on 
the  town  of  Angers,  had  been  defeated  and  driven  back  by 
the  garrison,  fvith  the  assistance  of  the  inhabitants.'  " 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Republic  !  "  cried  Schneider. 

"  '  Madame  Dubarry,  condemned  to  death  on  the  7th  was 
executed  the  same  day,  with  the  banker  van  Deniver,  her 
lover.  The  old  prostitute  completely  lost  her  head  before 
the  executioner  cut  it  off.  She  wept  and  struggled,  and 
called  for  help  ;  but  the  people  answered  her  appeals  with 
yells  and  curses.  They  remembered  the  evils  of  which 
she  and  her  like  had  been  the  cause,  evils  that  have  caused 
the  nation's  poverty.'  " 

"Infamous  creature!"  said  Schneider,  "after  dishonor- 
ing the  throne  she  now  tries  to  dishonor  the  scaffold  !  " 

At  this  moment  two  soldiers  entered  the  room,  whose 
uniforms,  familiar  enough  to  Schneider,  made  the  young 
lad  shiver.  They  were  dressed  in  black  ;  beneath  the  tri- 
color cockade  on  their  shakos  were  two  cross-bones  ;  rows 
of  white  braid  on  their  pelisses  and  dolmans  resembled  the 
ribs  of  a  skeleton,  and  their  pouches  bore  skulls  sur- 
mounted by  other  cross-bones.  They  belonged  to  the 
regiment  called  the  Huzzars  of  Death,  all  the  members  of 
which  were  bound  by  an  oath  not  to  make  prisoners.  A 
dozen  soldiers  of  this  regiment  formed  Schneider's  body- 
guard, and  he  used  them  as  messengers.  He  rose  when 
they  entered. 

"  iSTow,"  he  said  to  his  young  visitor,  "  stay  here,  or  go 
away,  just  as  you  like  ;  I  have  to  send  off  my  couriers  and 
attend  to  business.  But  don't  forget  that  we  dine  at  two, 
and  you  are  to  dine  with  us." 


EtJLOGE    SCHNEIDER.  35 

Nodding  to  Charles  he  went  into  his  study,  attended  b}^ 
his  funereal  escort. 

The  privilege  of  remaining  was  not  so  attractive  that  our 
young  man  grasped  it.  He  jumped  up  the  nionieut  Schudider, 
followed  by  his  two  dismal  guards,  had  departed,  and  seiz- 
ing the  sort  of  cap  with  which  he  covered  his  head,  he 
darted  from  the  room,  sprang  down  the  steps  at  a  bound, 
and,  still  running,  reached  good  Madame  Teutch's  kitchen, 
crying  out  :  — 

"  Oh  !  I  'm  so  hungry  ;  here  I  am  !  " 


36  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

IV. 

EUGÈNE    DE    BEAUHARNAIS. 

At  the  cry  of  her  "little  Charles,"  as  she  called  him, 
Madame  Teutch  came  out  of  a  dining-room,  which  opened 
upon  the  courtyard,  and  appeared  in  the  kitchen. 

''  Ah  !  ''  she  said,  "here  you  are,  thank  God  !  You  poor 
little  Tom  Thumb,  I  "m  tliankful  the  ogre  has  n't  devoured 
you." 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  was  charming.  His  teeth  are  not 
half  so  long  as  you  said  they  were." 

"  God  grant  you  may  never  feel  them  !  But  if  I  heard 
right,  yours  are  pretty  sharp.  Come  in  here,  and  I  will  go 
and  call  your  future  friend,  who  is  hard  at  work,  as  usual, 
poor  boy." 

And  the  citoyenne  Teutch  ran  up  the  stairs  with  a  juve- 
nility that  showed  she  felt  the  need  of  exercising  her 
exuberant  strength.  While  she  was  gone  Charles  examined 
the  preparations  for  the  most  appetizing  breakfast  that  had 
yet  been  served  to  liim.  From  this  examination  he  was 
diverted  by  the  opening  of  the  door,  which  now  gave 
entrance  to  the  young  man  mentioned  by  Madame  Teutch. 

He  was  a  lad  of  fourteen,  Avith  black  eyes,  and  curly  black 
hair  falling  on  his  shoulders  ;  his  dress  was  elegant,  his 
linen  extremely  white.  In  spite  of  the  attempts  that  had 
been  made  to  disguise  the  fact,  everything  about  him  was 
redolent  of  aristocracy.  He  went  up  to  Charles,  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"Our  good  landlady  tolls  me,  citizen,  that  I  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  spending  some  days  with  you  ;  and  she  adds 
that  you  have  promised  to  like  me  a  little,  which  gives  me 
great  pleasure,  for  I  am  very  much  disposed  to  like  you." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  Charles,  "  with  all  my  heart  !  " 


EUGÈNE   DE    BEAUHARNAIS.  37 

"Bravo!"  said  Madame  Teutcli,  coming  into  the  room; 
"  now  that  you  have  bowed  to  each  other  like  gentlemen, 
which  is  a  very  dangerous  thing  to  do  in  these  days,  you 
had  better  embrace  like  comrades  " 

"  I  ask  nothing  better,"  said  Eugène  ;  whereupon,  Charles 
threw  himself  into  his  arms. 

The  two  lads  kissed  each  other  with  the  frankness  and 
cordiality  of  youth. 

"  Ah,  ça  !  "  said  the  elder,  ''  I  know  you  are  called 
Charles,  and  my  name  is  Eugène.  I  hope  that  now  we 
know  each  other's  names,  we  need  not  say  '  monsieur  '  or 
'citizen.'  Come,  let's  sit  down,  Charles;  I  am  dying  of 
hunger,  and  Madame  Teutch  says  your  appetite  is  not 
deficient." 

"  Hey,  that 's  polite,''  said  Madame  Teuteh.  "  Ah  !  those 
ci-devants,  my  little  Charles,  those  ci-devants  know  how  to 
say  and  do  the  riglit  thing." 

''  Rut  you  must  not  say  so,  citoyenne  Teutch,"  said 
Eugène,  laughing  ;  "a  good  inn  like  yours  should  not  admit 
any  but  the  sans-nclottes." 

"  Then  I  should  have  to  forget  that  I  have  had  the  honor 
of  entertaining  your  worthy  father,  Monsieur  Eugène  ;  and 
God  knows  1  can't  do  that,  for  I  pray  for  him  night  and 
morning." 

"  You  must  pray  for  my  mother  too,  my  good  Madame 
Teutch,"  said  the  young  man,  brushing  the  tears  from  his 
eyes  ;  "  for  my  sister  Hortense  writes  me  that  our  dear 
mother  has  been  arrested  and  taken  to  the  Carmelite  prison. 
I  received  the  letter  this  morning." 

'  Poor  friend  !  "  cried  Charles. 

"  How  old  is  your  sister  ?  "  asked  Madame  Teutch. 

"Ten." 

"  Dear  child  Î  send  for  her  at  once.  We  '11  take  care  of 
her;  she  mustn't  stay  alone  in  Paris  at  that  age." 

"  Thank  you,  Madame  Teutch,  thank  you  ;  but  she  is  not 
alone,  fortunately;  she  is  with  my  grnndmother  at  our 
château  of  la  Ferte-Beauharnais  —     But  there  Î    I   have 


38  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

made  you  all  sad,  and  I  had  vowed  to  keep  this  new  trouble 
to  myself." 

"Monsieur  Eugene,"  said  Charles,  "when  people  make 
such  vows  as  that,  they  don't  trust  their  friends.  Well,  to 
punish  you,  you  shall  be  made  to  talk  of  nothing  but  your 
father,  mother,  and  sister,  during  all  breakfast-time." 

The  two  boys  sat  down  to  table,  and  ]\Iadame  Teutch 
served  them.  The  task  imposed  on  Eugène  was  an  easy 
one.  He  told  his  young  comrade  that  he  was  the  last 
descendant  of  a  noble  family  of  the  Orléanais  ;  that  one  of 
his  ancestors,  Guillaume  de  Beauharnais,  had  married,  in 
1398,  Marguerite  de  Bourges  ;  and  another,  Jean  de  Beau- 
harnais, had  given  testimony  at  the  trial  of  the  Maid  of 
Orleans.  In  1764  their  estate  of  la  Ferte-Aurain  had  been 
raised  to  a  inarquisate  under  the  name  of  la  Eerte-Beauhar- 
nais.  His  uncle  François,  who  had  emigrated  in  1790, 
became  a  major  in  Conde's  army,  and  offered  himself  to  the 
president  of  the  Convention  to  defend  the  king.  As  for  his 
father,  who  at  this  time  was  in  prison  on  a  charge  of 
plotting  with  the  enemy,  he  was  born  in  Martinique,  and 
had  there  married  Mademoiselle  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie, 
with  whom  he  came  to  France,  where  they  were  heartily 
received  at  court.  Appointed  to  the  States-General  by 
the  nobility  of  the  seneschal's-court  of  Blois,  he  had,  on 
the  night  of  the  4th  of  August,  been  among  the  first  to 
advise  the  suppression  of  titles  and  privileges.  Elected 
secretary  to  the  National  Assembly  and  member  of  the 
Military  Committee,  he  was  seen,  at  the  time  of  the  festi- 
val of  the  Federation,  working  eagerly  at  the  levelling  for 
the  Champs  de  ]\Iars,  harnessed  to  the  same  cart  as  the 
Abbé  Sieyès.  Finally  he  was  sent  to  the  Army  of  the 
North,  as  adjutant-general  ;  he  commanded  the  camp  at 
Soissons,  refused  the  ministry  of  war,  and  accepted  the 
fatal  position  of  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine  ;  the  rest  is  well  known. 

But  it  was  more  especially  about  the  beauty  and  grace 
and  goodness  of  his  mother  that  Eugène  was  eloquent  ;  his 


EUGÈNE    DE   BEAUHAKNAIS.  39 

heart  gave  out  its  floods  of  filial  love  ;  he  seemed  to  think 
of  work  with  double  ardor,  now  that  it  was  for  his  dear 
mother  Joséphine,  as  well  as  for  his  father,  the  Marquis  de 
Beauharnais.  Charles  who,  on  his  side,  had  the  tenderest 
affection  for  his  own  parents,  took  delight  in  listening  to 
his  companion,  and  was  eagerly  asking  questions  about  his 
mother  and  sister,  when  suddenly  a  dull  report  was  heard, 
which  shook  the  windows  of  the  inn,  followed  by  several 
other  detonations. 

"Cannon!  cannon!  that's  cannon!"  exclaimed  Eugène, 
more  accustomed  to  the  sounds  of  war  than  his  companion. 
"  To  arms  !  to  arms  !  "  he  cried,  "  the  town  's  attacked  !  " 

And  then,  from  three  or  four  directions,  came  the  roll  of 
drums  beating  the  alarm.  The  young  fellows  rushed  to 
the  door,  where  Madame  Teutch  had  preceded  them.  A 
great  tumult  was  arising  in  the  town  ;  horsemen,  in  various 
uniforms,  were  riding  in  every  direction,  no  doubt  bearing 
orders,  while  the  people,  hastily  arming  themselves  with 
pikes,  sabres,  and  pistols,  were  hurrying  toward  the  gate  of 
Haguenau,  shouting:  "  Patriots,  to  arms  !  the  enemy  is  here  !  " 

Minute  after  minute  the  dull  roar  of  the  cannon,  even 
more  than  the  human  outcries,  warned  the  town  of  danger, 
and  called  the  citizens  to  its  defence. 

"  Come  to  the  ramparts,  Charles,"  said  Eugène,  darting 
into  the  street  ;  "  if  we  can't  fight  ourselves  we  can  see  the 
fight  from  there." 

Charles  darted  too,  and  followed  his  comrade,  who,  being 
familiar  with  the  topography  of  the  town,  led  him  by  the 
shortest  cut  to  the  gate  of  Haguenau.  As  they  passed  a 
gunsmitli's  Eugène  stopped  short. 

"  Ha  !  an  idea  !  "  he  cried.  Entering  the  shop  he  asked, 
"  ^ave  you  a  good  carbine  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "  but  it  is  dear." 

"How  much?" 

"  Two  hundred  francs." 

The  youth  pulled  a  handful  of  assignats  from  his  pocket 
9,nd  threw  them  on  the  counter. 


40  THE   FIKST   KEPUBLIC. 

"  Have  3'ou  balls  of  the  right  calibre,  and  powder  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Give  me  some." 

The  gunsmith  picked  out  twenty  balls  that  would  fit  the 
barrel  with  only  a  push  from  the  ramrod,  then  he  weighed 
out  a  pound  of  powder  and  put  it  in  a  flask,  while  Eugène 
counted  down  two  hundred  francs  in  assignats,  and  six 
francs  more  for  the  balls  and  powder. 

"  Can  you  fire  a  gun  ?  "  asked  Eugène  of  his  comrade. 

"  Alas  !  no,"'  said  Charles,  ashamed  of  his  ignorance. 

"  Never  mind,"  replied  Eugène,  laughing,  ''  I  '11  fight  for 
both." 

He  resumed  his  running  toward  the  threatened  quarter, 
loading  his  gun  as  he  ran.  It  was  singular  to  see  how 
every  one,  no  matter  what  his  opinions  might  be,  bounded, 
so  to  speak,  toward  the  enemy  ;  from  every  door  an  anned 
man  darted;  that  magic  cry,  "The  enemy!  the  enemy!" 
seemed  to  evoke  defenders.  Around  the  gate  the  crowd 
was  so  compact  that  Eugène  saw,  if  he  wanted  to  reach  the 
rampart,  he  must  make  a  circuit;  accordingly  he  turned  to" 
the  right  and  soon  readied,  with  his  young  companion,  that 
part  of  the  rampart  which  faces  Schiltigneim.  A  large 
number  of  patriots  liad  already  assembled  there  and  were 
firing  at  the  enemy.  Eugène  had  some  difficulty  in  slipping 
through  them  to  the  front  rank,  but  he  finally  managed  it 
and  Charles  followed  him. 

The  road  and  the  plain  before  them  was  like  a  battle-field 
in  its  worst  confusion.  French  and  Austrians  were  fighting 
pell-mell  with  a  fuiy  which  no  words  can  describe.  The 
enemy,  in  pursuit  of  a  body  of  French  troops  which 
appeared  to  have  been  seized  with  one  of  those  panics  the 
ancients  attributed  to  the  wrath  of  a  god,  came  near  enter- 
ing the  town  with  the  fugitives.  The  gates,  closed  just  in 
time,  left  a  number  of  our  men  outside,  and  it  was  they  wlio, 
massed  in  the  ditches,  had  turned  with  fury  against  their 
pursuers,  while  from  the  ramparts  thundered  the  cannon, 
and  volleys  of  musketry  were  discharged. 


EUGÈNE    DE   BEAUHARNAIS.  41 

*'Ab  !"  cried  Eugène,  waving  his  carbine  joyously.  "  I 
knew  it  would  be  fine  to  see  a  battle  !  " 

As  he  said  the  words,  a  ball  passed  between  him  and 
Charles,  cut  off  a  lock  of  his  hair,  made  a  hole  through 
his  hat,  and  killed  a  patriot  behind  him.  The  wind  of  the 
ball  blew  on  the  faces  of  both  the  lads. 

"  I  know  who  fired  that  shot,  I  saw  him  !  I  saw  him  !  " 
cried  Charles. 

"  Where  ?  where  ?  "  asked  Eugène. 

"  That  one,  don't  you  see  ?  —  the  one  who  is  tearing  his 
cartridge  to  load  again." 

"  Wait  !  wait  !  you  are  quite  sure,  are  you  ?  " 

"Certain." 

•'Well  then,  look!" 

The  lad  fired  ;  the  dragoon  leaped  in  his  saddle  ;  the 
horse  shied,  —  the  rider  had  no  doubt  inadvertently  touched 
him  with  a  spur. 

"  Hit  !  hit  !  "  cried  Eugène. 

True  enough  ;  the  dragoon  endeavored  in  vain  to  fasten 
his  carbine  to  the  swivel,  but  the  weapon  escaped  him  ;  he 
put  one  hand  to  his  side  and  guiding  his  horse  with  the 
other,  tried  to  leave  the  mêlée  ;  but  after  a  few  steps, 
his  body  swayed  forward  and  back,  then,  dropping  on 
the  holsters,  fell  head  foremost  to  the  ground.  One  foot 
was  caught  in  the  stirrup  ;  the  terrified  horse  broke  into  a 
gallop  and  dragged  its  rider  with  it.  The  two  boys  watched 
it  for  a  moment,  and  then  both  horse  and  rider  disappeared 
in  the  smoke. 

At  this  moment  the  gates  opened  and  the  garrison  issued, 
with  fixed  bayonets,  the  drums  beating  the  charge.  It  was 
the  last  effort  the  patriots  were  required  to  make,  for  the 
enemy  did  not  expect  them.  The  bugles  sounded  the 
retreat,  and  the  Austrian  cavalry  scattered  over  the  plain 
massed  itself  on  the  main  road,  and  returned  at  a  gallop  to 
Kilstett  and  Gambelheim.  The  cannon  from  the  ramparts 
raked  the  column  for  a  few  minutes,  but  the  rapidity  of  its 
retreat  soon  carried  it  out  of  range. 


42  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

The  two  boys  returned  through  the  town  all-glorio.us,  — 
Charles  at  having  seen  a  battle  ;  Eugène  at  having 
taken  part  in  one.  Charles  made  Eugène  promise  to 
teach  him  how  to  use  that  very  carbine  he  had  handled 
so  well. 

The  cause  of  this  affray  was  now  known  for  the  first 
time.  General  Eisemberg,  a  veteran  of  the  old  Luckner 
school,  who  could  fight  a  sort  of  guerilla  warfare  with 
some  success,  was  intrusted  by  Pichegru  with  the  defence 
of  the  advanced  post  of  Biscliwiller.  Whether  it  was  care- 
lessness, or  dislike  of  the  decrees  of  Saint-Just,  instead  of 
guarding  the  post  with  the  vigilance  enjoined  on  him  by 
the  representatives  of  the  people,  he  allowed  his  troops  to 
be  surprised  in  quarters,  and  was,  in  fact,  surprised  in  his 
own,  —  so  completely  surprised  that  he  and  his  staff  barely 
escaped  with  their  lives,  at  the  full  speed  of  their  horses. 
When  he  reached  the  walls  of  Strasbourg  and  knew  himself 
supported,  he  turned  and  made  an  effort  to  rally  his  troops  ; 
but  it  was  then  too  late. 

It  now  became  apparent  to  the  eyes  of  every  one  that  the 
poor  devil  had  better  have  let  himself  be  taken  prisoner  or 
killed,  than  seek  for  safety  in  a  town  presided  over  by  Saint- 
«st  ;  for  no  sooner  was  he  inside  the  walls  than  he  was 
arrested,  he  and  his  wliole  staff,  by  order  of  the  represen- 
tative of  the  people. 

When  the  two  young  friends  returned  to  the  hôtel  de  la 
Lanterne  they  found  poor  Madame  Teutch  in  a  state  of  the 
greatest  anxiety.  Eugène  was  beginning  to  be  known  in  the 
town,  where  he  had  now  lived  a  month,  and  some  one  had 
told  her  he  was  seen  running  toward  the  gate  of  Haguenau 
with  a  musket  in  his  hand.  At  first  she  could  not  believe 
it;  but  when  she  saw  him  coming  back  actually  carrying 
the  weapon,  she  was  seized  with  retrospective  terror,  which 
was  trebled  by  the  sight  of  the  hole  in  his  hat,  and 
by  Charles's  account  of  the  affair;  for  the  bo}^  was  as 
wildly  enthusiastic  as  a  conscript  on  seeing  war  for  the 
first  time. 


EUGÈNE    DE    BEAUHARNAIS.  ^ 

Ail  this  enthusiasm,  however,  did  not  make  Charles  foi- 
get  that  he  was  to  dine  with  citizen  Euloge  Schneider  at 
two  o'clock.  Accordingly,  and  punctually  at  that  hour, 
having  mounted  the  steps  with  less  rapidity  than  he  had 
flown  down  them  in  the  morning,  he  knocked  at  the  little 
door  to  which  they  led. 


44  THE   Filial'   REPUBLIC. 


V. 


MADEMOISELLE    DE    BRUMPT. 


At  the  sound  of  the  first  cannon  the  Society  of  the  Propa- 
ganda had  met  and  declared  its  sittings  permanent  so  long 
as  Strasbourg  was  in  danger. 

Kabid  jacobin  as  he  was,  Euloge  Schneider,  who  was  to 
Marat  what  Marat  was  to  Robespierre,  was  himself  sur- 
passed in  ''  patriotism  "  by  the  Society  of  the  Propaganda. 
It  results  that  he,  public  prosecutor  and  special  commis- 
sioner of  the  Republic,  even  he  had  to  reckon  with  two 
conflicting  powers  between  whom  he  was  forced  to  keep 
himself  balanced,  —  on  the  one  hand,  with  Saint-Just, 
who  (strange  as  it  may  seem  to  the  reader  of  to-day,  though 
incontestably  true)  represented  the  moderate  section  of  the 
republican  party,  and  the  Propaganda,  which  represented 
the  ultra-jacobins.  Saint-Just  held  the  material  power; 
but  citizen  Tetrell,  leader  of  the  Propaganda,  held  the 
moral  power. 

Euloge  Schneider  had  therefore  thought  it  advisable  to 
be  present  at  the  meeting  of  the  Propagandists,  who  dis- 
cussed the  best  means  of  saving  the  country  ;  whereas 
Saint-Just  and  Lebas  were  among  the  first  to  issue  from 
Strasbourg  on  horseback  in  the  thick  of  the  fire,  recogniz- 
able by  their  dress  and  tricolor  plumes,  as  the  representa- 
tives of  the  people  ;  and  thoy  had  ordered  the  gate  of  the 
town  to  be  closed  behind  them  while  they  themselves  took 
their  places  at  the  head  of  the  republican  ranks.  When  the 
enemy  were  put  to  flight,  they  re-entered  Strasbourg  and 
went  to  the  City  Hall,  where  they  lived  ;  while  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Propaganda  continued  their  discussions,  thougli 
the  danger  was  over. 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   BRUMPT.  45 

This  circumstance  was  the  cause  why  Euloge  Schneider, 
who  impressed  the  necessity  of  punctuality  on  others,  was 
half  an  hour  late  for  dinner  himself.  Charles  had  used  the 
delay  by  making  acquaintance  with  the  three  guests  who, 
like  himself,  were  awaiting  the  host.  Their  names  were 
Edelmann,  Young,  and  Monnet. 

Edelmann  was  a  remarkable  musician,  the  equal  of 
Gossec  in  church  music.  He  had  also  composed  a  score 
for  a  theatre  on  the  poem  of  "Ariadne  in  Naxos,"  which 
was  played  in  France,  if  I  remember  right,  about  1818  or 
1820.  He  Avas  a  very  small  man,  with  a  lugubrious  face, 
always  wearing  spectacles  which  seemed  to  grow  upon  his 
nose  ;  his  coat  was  maroon  in  color,  and  invariably  but- 
toned from  top  to  bottom  with  brass  buttons.  He  had  flung 
himself  into  the  revolutionary  i)arty  with  all  the  exagge- 
ration and  violence  of  a  man  of  imagination.  When  his 
friend  Dietrich,  mayor  of  Strasbourg,  accused  of  "  mode- 
rantism  "  by  Schneider,  fell  a  victim  in  the  struggle,  he 
testified  against  him,  saying  :  "  T  weep  your  fate  because 
you  are  my  friend  ;  but  you  must  die  because  you  are  a 
traitor." 

As  for  the  second, — that  is  to  say,  Young,  —  he  was  a 
poor  shoen)aker,  with  the  coarse  exterior  in  which  Nature, 
as  often  happens,  whether  by  accident  or  caprice,  hides 
a  poetic  soul.  He  knew  Greek  and  Latin,  but  he  wrote 
his  odes  and  satires  in  German.  His  well-known  republi- 
canism had  made  his  poetry  very  popular;  often,  as  he 
went  along  the  streets,  the  common  people  would  ci-y  out 
to  him:  ''Verses,  Young,  verses!  —  give  us  some  verses!" 
Then  he  would  stop,  mount  a  post,  or  the  coping  of  a  well; 
or  the  nearest  balcony,  if  there  happened  to  be  one,  and  toss 
strophes  and  odes  to  the  skies  like  fier}-,  hissing  rockets. 
He  was  one  of  those  rare  and  honest  men,  one  of  those 
single-minded  revolutionaries,  who  were  blindly  devoted  to 
the  grandeur  of  the  popular  cause,  —  men  who  expected 
nothing  from  the  Revolution  but  the  emancipation  of  the 
human  race,  who  died  as  the  martyrs  of  old,  without  com- 


46  THE    FIRST    EEPUBLIC. 

plaint  and  without  regret,  sure  of  the  future  triumph  of 
their  faith. 

Monnet,  the  third,  was  no  stranger  to  Charles,  who  gave 
a  cry  of  delight  when  he  saw  him.  He  was  formerly  a 
soldier  (a  grenadier)  in  his  youth;  and  having  left  the 
military  service,  he  became  a  priest,  and  was  made  prefect 
of  the  lyceum  at  Besançon,  where  Charles  had  known  him. 
Just  as  he  had  reaoh<^d  the  age  of  passions,  —  that  is  to 
say,  when  he  was  twenty-eight  years  old,  and  might  have 
regretted  the  vows  he  had  rashly  taken,  —  the  Kevolution 
intervened  and  broke  them.  He  was  tall,  a  little  bent,  full 
of  cordiality  and  politeness,  with  a  melanchol}-  grace  which 
seemed  at  first  sight  to  be  his  chief  characteristic.  His 
smile  was  sad,  sometimes  bitter  ;  it  might  be  thought  that 
in  the  depths  of  his  heart  he  hid  some  mournful  secret,  and 
was  asking  of  men,  or  rathei-  from  humanit}'  itself,  a  shelter 
against  some  danger  to  his  innocence,  —  the  greatest  of  all 
dangers  at  that  period.  Thus  it  was  that  he  flung  himself, 
or  rather  had  suffered  himself  to  fall  into  the  extremist 
party  to  which  Schneider  belonged.  At  the  present  mo- 
ment, trembling  at  his  union  with  fury,  his  complicity  with 
crime,  he  was  letting  himself  go  with  closed  eyes  he  knew 
not  whither. 

These  three  men  were  the  three  friends,  the  three  insepa- 
rables of  Schneider.  They  began  now  to  get  uneasy  at 
his  non-appearance  ;  for  each  felt  that  Schneider  was  his 
pillar  of  strength  ;  if  Schneider  were  shaken,  they  fell  ;  if 
Schneider  fell,  they  were  dead  men.  Monnet,  the  most 
nervous  and  consequently  the  most  impatient  of  the  three, 
had  just  risen,  intending  to  go  out  for  news,  when  a  key 
was  heard  grinding  in  the  lock  of  a  door  which  was  opened 
and  then  slammed  with  violence. 

Schneider  entered  the  room.  The  sitting  of  the  Propa- 
ganda had  been  stormy  ;  the  ashy  skin  of  the  public 
prosecutor  was  blotched  with  angry  color,  perspiration  was 
rolling  from  his  forehead,  his  loosened  neckcloth  gave  to 
sight  the  choleric   swelling  of  his   thick  bull's-neck.     As 


MADEMOISELLE    DE    BRUMPT.  47 

he  came   into   the  room   he  flung  his  hat  to  the  farther 
end  of  it. 

When  the  three  men  saw  him  they  rose  as  if  moved  by  a 
spring  and  made  one  step  in  his  direction.  Charles,  on  the 
other  hand,  stood  up  behind  his  chair  as  if  he  were  making 
a  barricade  of  it. 

"Citizens,"  cried  Schneider,  grinding  his  teeth,  "citizens, 
I  announce  to  you  a  fine  piece  of  news,  —  news  which  may 
not  rejoice  your  hearts,  but  will  at  any  rate  astound  you. 
I  shall  be  married  within  a  week." 

"  You  !  "  exclaimed  the  three  men  with  one  voice, 

"Yes,  I.  It  will  be  a  tine  surprise  to  Strasbourg  when 
that  bit  of  news  goes  round  from  mouth  t;i  mouth.  '  Have 
you  heard  ?  '  '  No  !  '  '  The  monk  of  Cologne  is  to  be 
married  !  '  '  Really  ?  '  *  Truly.'  Young,  you  shall  write 
the  epithalamium,  Edelmann  shall  set  it  to  music,  and 
]\Ionnet,  who  is  as  gay  as  a  sarcophagus,  shall  sing  it. 
Charles,  mind  you  write  the  news  to  your  father  by  the 
next  post." 

"  But  who  is  it  you  are  going  to  marry  ?  " 

"  Faith,  I  don't  know,  and  what 's  more,  I  don't  care. 
I  "ve  a  great  niiud  to  marry  my  old  cook  ;  it  would  be  a  good 
example  of  the  fusion  of  classes." 

"  What  has  happened  ?     Come,  tell  us." 

"  Oh  !  nothing,  except  that  T  have  been  attacked, 
arraigned,  accused,  —  yes,  accused  !  " 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  At  the  Propaganda." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Monnet,  "  a  society  that  you  yourself 
created  !  " 

"  Did  you  never  hear  of  children  that  killed  their 
fathers  ?  " 

"  But  who  attacked  you  ?  " 

"Tetrell.  Can  you  understand  that  democrat  who  has 
brought  luxury  into  sansculottism,  carries  Versailles  guns, 
pistols  y^ith  Jieuj'-de-lis,  has  packs  of  hounds  like  a  ci-devant, 
a  stud  like  a  prince,  and  is,  the  Lord  knows  why,  the  idol 


48  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

of  the  Strasbourg  populace?  Perhaps  it's  because  he 
glitters  like  a  drum-major.  I  did  think  I  had  given  guar- 
antees enough  of  sound  opinions  ;  but  no  !  the  uniform  of 
a  public  prosecutor  can't  cover  the  monk's  cowl  or  the 
canon's  surplice  ;  they  have  been  throwing  that  cursed 
priesthood  into  my  face,  v/hich,  they  say,  makes  me 
irremediably  suspicious  to  the  true  sons  of  libe^t3^  Who, 
I  ask  you,  has  immolated  more  victims  than  I  on  the  sacred 
altar  of  liberty  ?  Have  n't  I  within  the  last  month  cut  off 
twenty-six  heads  ?     How  man}^  do  they  want  ?  " 

'•'Be  calm,  be  calm,  Schneider!" 

"  It  is  maddening  !  "  continued  Schneider,  getting  more 
and  more  excited,  "  what  with  the  Propaganda  on  the  one 
hand  shouting,  ^  You  don't  do  enough  !  '  and  Saint-Just,  on 
the  other,  bawling  out,  '  Stop  !  stop  !  '  Yesterda}'- 1  arrested 
six  of  those  curs,  those  aristocrats,  and  to-day  four  more. 
There  's  nothing  to  be  seen  in  Strasbourg  and  its  neighbor- 
hood but  my  Death  Huzzars.  This  very  night  I  am  going  to 
capture  an  émUjré  who  has  had  the  audacit}^  to  cross  the 
Rhine  in  a  smuggler's  boat  and  go  to  Plobsheim  to  conspire 
with  his  family.  That  fellow,  he  's  sure  of  his  fate  !  Ha  ! 
I  've  learned  one  thing,"  he  continued,  flinging  out  his  right 
arm  with  a  threatening  gesture  ;  "  it  is  that  events  are 
stronger  than  wills;  and  that  if  there  are  men  who — like 
the  chariots  of  war  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures  —  crush 
the  people  as  they  pass,  it  is  because  those  men  are  driven 
by  the  same  irresistible  and  fatal  power  which  rends 
volcanoes  and  precipitates  cataracts." 

Then,  after  this  declamation,  which  was  not  without  a 
certain  eloquence,  he  burst  into  a  roar  of  nervous  laughter. 

"Pooh!"  he  said,  "there's  nothing  before  life  and 
nothing  after  death;  it  is  all  a  waking  nightmare,  that's 
the  whole  of  it  !  It  is  n't  worth  thinking  about  while  it 
lasts,  or  regretting  when  it  goes.  Come,  let's  have  some 
dinner  ;  valeat  res  Indicra,  hey,  Charles  ?  " 

So  saying  he  preceded  his  friends  into  the  dining-room, 
where  an  admirable  dinner  was  served. 


MADEMOISELLE    DE    BRUMPT,  49 

"But,"  said  Young,  sitting  clown  with  the  rest  at  the 
table,  "  I  don't  see  anything  in  all  that  to  force  you  to 
marry  in  a  week." 

"  True,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  the  best  part  of  all.  Would 
you  believe  that  while  calling  me  the  monk  of  Cologne 
(where  I  never  wore  a  cowl)  and  the  canon  of  Augsbourg 
(where  I  never  was  a  canon),  they  also  reproached  me  for 
my  orgies  and  debauches  !  My  orgies,  indeed  !  For  thirty- 
four  years  of  my  life  I  ate  nothing  but  carrots  and  drank 
water  ;  it  would  be  hard  indeed  if  1  could  n't  now  eat  white 
bread  and  a  bit  of  meat.  My  debauches  !  If  they  think  I 
pulled  off  my  gown  to  live  like  Saint  Anthony,  they  are 
mistaken.  Well,  there 's  one  waj-  to  stop  their  mouths,  and 
that 's  to  marry.  The  devil  take  me  !  I  can  be  a  faithful 
husband  and  a  good  father  of  a  family,  like  other  men  !  — 
that  is,  if  citizen  Saint-Just  lets  me  have  leisure  enough." 

"  Have  you  chosen  the  happy  bride  to  share  your  couch?  " 
asked  Edelmann. 

"  No,"  said  Schneider  ;  "  as  there 's  a  woman  in  the  case, 
the  devil  will  provide." 

^'  To  the  health  of  the  future  spouse  of  Schneider  !  "  cried 
Young  ;  "  and  as  he  has  chosen  the  devil  for  go-between, 
may  the  devil  find  him  a  rich  and  young  and  handsome 
mate." 

"  Hurrah  for  the  wife  of  Schneider  !  "  said  Monnet, 
sadly. 

At  that  instant  the  door  opened  and  the  old  cook 
appeared  upon  the  threshold. 

"  Here  's  a  citoyenne,"  she  said,  "  who  wants  to  speak  to 
citizen  Euloge  on  pressing  business." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Euloge,  "  there  's  no  business  so  pressing 
as  to  eat  my  dinner.     Tell  her  to  come  back  to-morrow." 

The  old  woman  disappeared,  but  presently  put  her  head 
in  again. 

"  She  says  to-morrow  will  be  too  late." 

"Then  why  did  n't  she  come  earlier  ?  " 

"Because  it  was  impossible,  citizen,"   said   a   soft  and 

TOL.    I.— 4 


50  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

supplicating  voice  from  the  antechamber.  "  Let  me  see 
you,  let  me  speak  to  you,  —  I  implore  it  !  " 

Euloge,  with  an  impatient  gesture,  signed  to  the  old 
woman  to  close  the  door  and  come  to  him.  But  suddenly 
reflecting  on  the  freshness  and  charm  of  the  voice,  he  asked 
the  cook,  with  the  smile  of  a  satyr  :  — 

"  Is  she  young  ?  " 

"  About  eighteen,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Is  she  pretty  ?  " 

"  With  the  devil's  beauty." 

The  three  men  began  to  laugh. 

"  You  hear  that,  Schneider  ?  the  devil's  beauty  !  " 

"  You  've  only  to  find  out  if  she 's  rich,"  said  Young, 
"  and  there 's  your  wife  provided.  Open  the  door,  old 
woman,  and  let  her  in  ;  she  must  be  an  acquaintance  of 
yours  as  she  comes  from  the  devil." 

"Perhaps  she  comes  from  God,"  said  Charles. 

"  No,  for  our  friend  Schneider  has  quarrelled  with  God, 
and  is,  on  the  other  hand,  great  friends  with  the  devil." 

"  Besides,"  said  Young,  "  nobody  but  the  devil  hears  and 
grants  the  prayers  that  are  made  to  him." 

"Well,"  said  Schneider,  "let  her  in." 

The  old  woman  opened  the  door  ;  and  it  instantly  framed 
the  graceful  figure  of  a  young  girl  in  a  travelling-dress, 
wrapped  in  a  black  satin  mantle  lined  with  pink  silk.  She 
made  a  few  steps  into  the  dining-room  and  stopped  in  the 
full  light  of  the  wax-candles.  The  four  men  gave  a  mur- 
mur of  admiration. 

"  Citizens,"  she  said,  "  which  of  you  is  the  citizen  Com- 
missioner of  the  Republic  ?  " 

"  I  am,  citoyenne,"  replied  Schneider,  without  rising. 

"  Citizen,"  she  said,  "  I  have  a  mercy  to  ask  of  you  on 
which  my  life  depends." 

Her  eyes  turned  anxiously  from  one  to  another  of  the 
party. 

"  You  need  not  be  troubled  by  the  presence  of  my 
fîtends,"  said   Schneider  ;  "  they  are  also  the  friends,  by 


MADEMOISELLE    DE    BRUMPT.  51 

taste,  and  I  might  say  by  profession,  of  beauty  ;  that 's  my 
friend  Edelmann,  he  's  a  musician  —  " 

The  young  girl  inclined  her  head  as  if  to  say,  "  I  know 
his  music." 

"  —  and  this  is  my  friend  Young,  a  poet  —  " 

Same  movement  of  the  head,  which  meant  :  "  I  know  his 
poems." 

"  —  and  this  is  my  friend  Monnet,  who  is  neither  poet 
nor  juusician,  but  has  eyes  and  heart,  and  is  all  ready,  I  see, 
to  plead  your  cause.  As  for  my  young  friend  here,  he  is 
only  a  scholar,  but  learned  enough  already  to  conjugate  the 
verb  to  love  in  three  languages.  You  can  safely  explain 
yourself  before  them  all  —  unless  you  have  something  to 
say  to  me  that  can  only  be  told  in  a  tête-à-tête.'" 

He  rose  and  offered  his  hand  to  the  young  girl,  motion 
ing  toward  a  half-open  door  which  led  into  the  adjoining 
salon, 

"  iSTo,"  she  said  quickly,  "  no,  monsieur  —  " 

Schneider  frowned. 

"  —  pardon  me,  I  meant  citizen.  No,  citizen,  what  I  have 
to  say  does  not  fear  the  light,  nor  yet  publicity." 

Schneider  sat  down  again  and  made  a  sign  to  the  young 
girl  to  take  a  seat.     But  she  shook  her  head. 

*'  It  becomes  suppliants  to  stand,"  she  said. 

"Then,"  said  Schneider,  "let  us  proceed  regularly.  î 
have  told  you  who  we  all  are  ;  now  tell  us  who  you 
may  be." 

"  My  name  is  Clotilde  Brumpt." 

"  De  Brumpt,  I  suppose  you  mean  ?  " 

"  It  is  unjust  to  reproach  me  for  a  crime  committed  three 
or  four  centuries  before  I  was  born,  and  in  which  I  took 
no  part." 

"  You  need  not  say  more  ;  I  know  your  history,  and 
what  has  brought  you  here." 

The  young  girl  made  a  movement  of  supplication,  throw- 
ing forward  her  head  and  her  clasped  hands  ;  as  she  did  so 
the  hood  of   her  mantle   dropped  on  her  shoulders,  and 


52  THE    FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

revealed  to  the  light  a  face  oi'  extreme  beauty.  Her 
charming  golden  hair  was  parted  to  the  crown  of  the  head 
and  fell  in  curls  beside  her  cheeks,  framing  the  perfect 
oval  of  the  face.  Her  forehead,  of  a  pure  and  marble 
whiteness,  seemed  the  more  dazzling  because  the  eyes  and 
brows  and  lashes  were  black;  the  nose,  straight  and  jet 
flexible,  shared  in  the  slight  trembling  of  the  cheeks,  which 
showed  the  traces  of  much  weeping  ;  her  lips,  half-open 
with  entreaty,  seemed  to  be  cut  in  soft  pink  coral,  and 
behind  them  the  pretty  teeth  shone  white  as  pearls  ;  a 
throat  like  snow  and  smooth  as  satin,  was  nearly  hidden 
by  a  black  gown  high  to  the  neck,  beneath  the  folds  of 
which  the  graceful  undulations  of  the  body  which  it  draped 
could  be  seen.  She  was  glorious  to  behold  as  she  stood 
there. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Schneider,  "  yes,  you  are  handsome  ; 
you  have  the  beauty  of  the  accursed  races,  their  grace,  and 
their  seduction.  But  we  are  not  Asiatics  to  be  seduced 
from  our  duty  by  Helens  or  Koxalanas  ;  your  father  is  a 
conspirator,  your  father  is  guilty,  your  father  shall  die." 

The  poor  girl  gave  a  cry  ;  the  words  were  like  a  dagger 
piercing  her  heart 

"Oh,  no,  no  !"  she  cried,  "my  father  is  not  a  conspirator." 

"  If  he  was  not  conspiring  why  did  he  emigrate  ?  " 

"He  emigrated  because,  belonging  to  the  Prince  de 
Condé,  he  thought  he  ought  to  follow  his  commander  into 
exile  ;  but  faithful  to  his  country  as  he  was  to  his  master, 
he  has  never  been  willing  to  fight  against  France.  For  the 
two  years  of  his  exile,  his  sword  has  never  left  its 
scabbard." 

"  What  does  he  want  to  do  in  France  ?  why  did  he  cross 
the  Rhine  in  a  smuggler's  boat  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  my  mourning  clothes  may  tell  you,  citizen.  My 
mother  was  dying  on  this  side  the  river,  a  few  miles  from 
him.  The  man  in  whose  arms  she  had  passed  the  twenty 
happy  years  of  her  life,  waited  anxiously  for  words  of  hope. 
Each  message   we  could  send  him  said,  'Worse!   worse! 


MADEMOISELLE    UE   BKUMPT.  53 

Still  worse  !  '  Two  days  ago  he  could  bear  it  no  longer  ;  he 
crossed  the  river  disguised  as  a  peasant.  Perhaps  the 
reward  has  tempted  the  boatman;  God  forgive  him,  he 
deuounced  my  father,  and  to-night  my  father  has  been 
arrested.  Ask  your  agents  how  and  when,  — at  the  moment 
when  my  mother  was  yielding  her  last  breath.  Ask  them 
what  he  was  doing,  —  weeping  as  he  closed  her  eyes.  Ah  ! 
if  ever  a  return  from  exile  is  pardonable,  it  is  that  of  a 
husband  who  comes  to  bid  a  last  farewell  to  the  mother  of 
his  children.  Good  God  !  will  you  tell  me  that  every 
émi/jré  wlio  returns  to  the  soil  of  France  deserves  to  die  ? 
—  yes,  he  does,  if  he  comes  back  with  conspiracy  in  his 
heart,  and  weapons  in  his  hand,  but  not  if  he  comes  to 
kneel  beside  the  deathbed  of  a  wife." 

"Citoyenne  Brumpt,"  said  Sclmnder,  shaking  his  head, 
"the  law  does  not  concern  itself  with  sentimental  subtle- 
ties ;  it  says,  '  In  such  a  case,  under  such  circumstances, 
for  such  causes,  the  pen.alty  of  death  is  incurred.'  The  man 
who  puts  himself  into  the  circumstances  stated  by  the  law, 
and  is  aware  of  the  law,  is  guilty  ;  and  if  guilty,  he  must 
die." 

"No,  no,  not  if  he  is  judged  by  men,  and  those  men  have 
a  heart." 

"A  heart!"  cried  Schneider;  "do  you  suppose  a  man 
must  always  have  a  heart  ?  My  enemies  accused  me  to-day 
at  the  Propaganda  of  listening  weakly  to  human  entreaties. 
Don't  you  know  that  my  path  would  be  easier  and  more 
agreeable  if  I  could  lift  a  handsome  creature  like  you  at  my 
feet  and  dry  her  tears,  instead  of  saying,  brutally  :  '  It  is  use- 
less, you  are  wasting  your  breath  '  ?  No,  unhappily  the  law 
is  there,  and  the  executors  of  the  law  must  be  as  inflexible 
as  the  law.  It  is  not  a  woman,  it  is  an  iron  statue,  hold- 
ing a  sword  in  one  hand  and  scales  in  the  other;  nothing 
can  be  placed  upon  those  scales  but  the  accusation  on  one 
side  and  the  truth  on  the  other;  nothing  can  divert  the 
blade  of  that  sword  from  the  terrible  line  that  is  marked 
out  for  it.     On  that  line  was  the  head  of  a  king,  the  head 


54  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

of  a  queen,  the  head  of  a  prince  ;  and  those  three  heads  fell 
like  that  of  a  beggar  convicted  of  a  murder  or  incendiarism. 
To-morrow  I  go  to  Plobsheim  ;  the  scaffold  and  the  execu- 
tioner will  accompany  me.  If  your  father  was  not  an  émigré, 
or  if  he  did  not  furtively  cross  the  Rhine,  if,  in  short,  the 
accusation  is  unjust,  he  will  be  set  at  liberty  ;  but,  if  the 
accusation,  which  your  own  lips  confirm,  is  true,  his  head 
will  fall  in  the  market  place  of  Plobsheim." 

The  young  girl  raised  her  head,  and  making  a  strong 
effort  over  herself,  she  said  :  — 

"  Then  you  leave  me  no  hope  ?  " 

"No." 

"  I  ask  for  one  word  more,"  she  said,  standing  erect. 

"  Say  on." 

"No,  to  you  alone." 

"Come  here,  then." 

The  girl  walked  at  once,  with  a  firm  step,  to  the  salon 
which  she  entered  without  the  least  hesitation.  Schneider 
followed  her  and  closed  the  door  behind  them.  The 
moment  they  were  alone  he  put  out  his  arm  to  clasp  her 
waist  ;  but  simply,  and  with  great  dignity  she  arrested  his 
action  with  her  hand. 

"In  order  that  you  may  pardon  the  last  effort  that  I 
make,  citizen  Schneider,"  she  said,  "you  must  remember 
that  I  have  appealed  to  your  heart  by  ever}-  honest  means 
and  you  have  repulsed  them  ;  you  must  say  to  yourself  that 
I  am  driven  to  despair,  and  that,  wishing  to  save  the  life 
of  ray  father,  and  being  unable  to  move  you  otherwise,  it 
becomes  my  duty  to  say:  If  prayers  and  tears  are  power- 
less, perhaps  money  —  " 

Schneider  made  a  scornful  motion  of  the  shoulders  and 
lips,  but  the  young  girl  paid  no  heed  to  it. 

"  I  am  rich,"  she  continued  ;  "  my  mother  being  dead,  I 
inherit  an  immense  fortune,  which  is  mine,  mine  only, 
citizen  Schneider.  I  can  dispose  of  two  millions.  Had  I 
four  I  would  offer  them  to  you  ;  but  two  is  all  I  have  ;  will 
you  accept  them  and  save  my  father  ?  " 


MADEMOISELLE   DE    BRÛMPT.  55 

Schneider  laid  a  hand  upon  her  shoulder  ;  his  eyes  were 
thoughtful,  but  the  heavy  brows  almost  concealed  their 
expression  from  the  eager  examination  of  the  girl. 

"  To-morrow,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  go  to  Plobsheim,  as  I 
told  you.  You  have  just  made  me  a  proposition,  I  will 
there  make  you  another." 

"  You  mean  ?  "  cried  the  girl. 

"  I  mean  that  if  you  choose  this  matter  can  be  settled." 

"  If  your  proposition  is  such  as  to  leave  any  stain  what- 
ever on  my  honor,  it  will  be  useless  to  make  it." 

"  It  will  leave  none." 

"  Then  you  will  be  welcome  at  Plobsheim." 

Bowing  to  him,  without  real  hope  in  her  heart  and  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  she  opened  the  door,  crossed  the  dining- 
room,  inclined  her  head  to  those  present,  and  disappeared. 
Neither  the  three  men  nor  Charles  could  see  her  face,  which 
was  entirely  hidden  by  the  hood  of  her  mantle. 

The  Commissioner  of  the  Republic  followed  her  from  the 
salon;  he  looked  at  the  door  of  the  dining-room  vintil  it 
was  closed  behind  her,  and  he  listened  until  he  heard  the 
roll  of  the  carriage  which  took  her  away.  Then  walking 
up  to  the  table  he  poured  into  his  own  glass  and  those  of  his 
friends,  an  entire  bottle  of  LiehefrauTnicht. 

"  In  this  generous  wine,"  he  said,  "  let  us  drink  to  the 
health  of  Clotilde  Brumpt,  the  affianced  wife  of  Jean- 
Georges-Euloge  Schneider." 

He  raised  his  glass,  and  his  four  guests,  thinking  it  use- 
leas  to  ask  an  explanation,  which  he  would  probably  not 
give,  followed  his  example,  and  the  toast  was  drunk. 


56  THE   FIKST   EEPUBLIC. 


VI. 


MAITKE    NICOLAS. 

The  impression  made  by  this  scene  was  deep,  and  each  per- 
son felt  it  according  to  his  nature  ;  but  the  one  most  affected 
was  our  young  schoolboy.  He  had  certainly  often  seen 
women,  but  it  was  the  first  time  that  ivoman  was  revealed 
to  him.  Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt,  as  we  have  said,  was 
marvellously  beautiful,  and  that  beauty  had  appeared 
to  the  eyes  of  the  lad  under  conditions  well  calculated  to 
bring  it  out.  A  strange  emotion  filled  his  being,  some- 
thing like  a  painful  clutch  at  his  heart,  when,  the  young 
girl  having  gone,  Schneider  raised  his  glass  and  announced 
that  Clotilde  Brumpt  would  be  his  future  wife. 

What  could  have  happened  in  the  salon  ?  By  what 
persuasive  words  had  Schneider  brought  her  to  consent  so 
rapidly  ?  For  the  lad  could  not  doubt,  after  Schneider's 
assurance,  that  the  consent  had  been  given.  It  must  have 
been  that  she  took  him  aside  to  offer  herself  to  him.  If  so, 
what  supreme  devotion  of  filial  love  it  was  that  brought 
this  lily  of  purity,  this  fragrant  rose,  to  ally  herself  with  a 
prickly  holly,  a  coarse  thistle  !  To  him,  to  Charles,  it 
seemed  that  if  he  were  the  father  of  that  perfect  girl  he 
would  rather  die  a  hundred  deaths  than  buy  his  life  by 
such  a  sacrifice  of  his  daughter.  As  it  was  the  first  time 
the  lad  had  ever  appreciated  beauty  in  a  woman,  so  also 
it  was  the  first  time  he  had  perceived  the  immense  gulf 
which  ugliness  can  put  between  two  persons  of  opposite 
sexes.  And  how  hideous  this  ugliness  of  Schneider's  was, 
thought  Charles,  observing  it  for  the  first  time.  It  was 
the  worst  of  all  ugliness  ;  that  which  nothing  can  efface 
because  it  is  complicated  with  moral  ugliness,  —  the  fetid 


MAÎTRE   NICOLAS.  57 

Ugliness  of  monkish  faces  which,  when  young,  receive  the 
impress  of  hypocrisy. 

Charles,  lost  in  reflection,  his  face  turned  to  the  door 
through  which  the  young  girl  had  disappeared,  by  the  same 
attraction  which  inclines  the  heliotrope  to  the  setting  sun, 
seemed  with  open  mouth  and  moving  nostrils  to  be  inhal- 
ing the  fragrant  atoms  she  had  scattered  as  she  passed. 
The  nervous  agitations  of  youth  awoke  in  him  ;  and,  as  in 
April  the  chest  expands  when  it  inhales  the  iirst  breezes  of 
spring,  so  his  heart  dilated  as  he  breathed  the  iirst  per- 
fume of  love.  It  was  not  yet  day,  it  was  only  dawn  ;  it 
was  not  yet  love,  it  was  but  the  herald  that  announced  it. 

He  was  about  to  rise  and  follow  the  magnetic  current, 
and  go  he  knew  not  whither,  like  other  young  and  agitated 
hearts,  when  Schneider  rang  the  bell.  The  sound  made 
him  shudder  and  descend  from  the  heights  he  was  scaling. 
The  old  cook  appeared. 

"  Are  there  any  orderlies  about  ?  "  asked  Euloge. 

"Two,"  she  answered. 

"Tell  one  of  them  to  fetch  me  Maître  Nicolas." 

The  old  woman  shut  the  door  without  answering,  —  a 
proof  that  she  knew  what  was  meant.  Charles  did  not 
know,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  toast  whir-h  followed 
Mademoiselle  Brumpt's  departure  and  the  order  given  to 
the  old  woman  were  linked  to  one  purpose,  and  he  felt 
he  was  about  to  learn  something  strange.  It  was  evident 
also  that  the  other  three  knew  who  Maître  Nicolas  was, 
inasmuch  as  they,  free  as  they  were  with  Schneider,  asked 
no  questions.  Charles  would  gladly  have  inquired  of  his 
neighbor  Monnet,  but  he  dared  not,  for  fear  that  Euloge 
might  hear  the  question  and  answer  it. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  a  certain 
uneasiness  was  apparent  among  the  guests  ;  the  expecta- 
tion of  coffee,  that  joyous  liquor  due  at  the  dessert,  even 
its  coming,  did  not  lift  so  much  as  a  corner  of  the  crape 
veil  which  Schneider's  order,  simple  as  it  sounded,  had 
spread  about  them. 


58  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Ten  minutes  elapsed.  At  the  end  of  that  time  three 
raps  given  in  a  peculiar  manner  were  heard.  The  guests 
visibly  quivered.  Edelmann  buttoned  up  his  coat  ;  Young 
coughed  ;  Monnet  turned  as  pale  as  the  collar  of  his  shirt. 

"  There  he  is  !  "  said  Euloge,  frowning  and  speaking  in 
a  voice  which  Charles's  excited  interest  made  him  think 
changed. 

The  door  opened  and  the  old  woman  announced  :  — 

"Citizen  Nicolas." 

Then  she  stood  aside  to  let  that  person  pass,  taking 
extreme  care  that  he  should  not  touch  her  as  he  did  so. 

A  pale,  grave,  thin  little  man  entered  the  room.  He 
was  dressed  like  everybody  else,  and  yet  —  impossible  as 
it  was  to  say  why  —  there  was  in  his  dress,  his  manner, 
his  whole  person,  something  strange  that  made  those  who 
saw  him  ponder.  Edelmann,  Young,  and  Monnet,  drew 
back  their  chairs.  Schneider  advanced  his.  The  little 
man  made  two  steps  within  the  room,  bowed  to  Euloge 
without  taking  any  notice  of  the  others,  and  stood  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  him. 

"  To-morrow,  at  nine  o'clock,  we  start,"  said  Schneider. 

"  For  what  place  ?  " 

"Plobsheim." 

"  How  long  sliall  we  be  there  ?  " 

"  Two  days." 

"  How  many  assistants  will  be  needed  ?  " 

"Two.     Is  your  machine  in  order  ?  " 

The  little  man  smiled,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  if 
to  say,  '•  Fine  question  !  "  then  he  said  aloud  :  "  Am  I  to 
wait  at  the  gate  to  Kehl,  or  shall  I  join  you  here  ?  " 

"Join  me  here." 

"At  nine  o'clock,  punctually." 

The  little  man  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

"Wait,"  said  Schneider;  "don't  go  without  drinking  to 
the  health  of  the  Republic." 

The  little  man  accepted,  bowing.  Schneider  rang  the 
bell  ;  the  old  woman  appeared. 


I 


MAÎTRE   NICOLAS.  59 

"  A  glass  for  citizen  Nicolas/'  he  said. 

Schneider  took  up  the  first  bottle  that  came  to  hand,  and 
tipped  it  carefully  over  the  glass  so  as  not  to  cloud  the 
liquor.  As  the  first  red  drops  fell  into  the  glass  the  little 
man  said  quickly,  — 

"I  do  not  drink  red  wine." 

"Ah,  true!"  said  Schneider.  Then,  with  a  laugh,  he 
added  :  "  So  you  are  still  nervous,  citizen  Nicolas  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Schneider  took  another  bottle  of  wine,  —  it  was  cham- 
pagne this  time. 

"  There  !  "  he  said,  offering  it  to  the  man,  ••  guillotine  me 
that  bottle."' 

And  he  lau;.;]ied.  Edelmann,  Young,  and  INIonnet  tried 
to  do  likewise,  but  failed.  The  little  man  was  serious.  He 
took  the  bottle,  pulled  from  his  belt  a  knife  with  a  broad, 
straight,  pointed  blade,  passed  it  several  times  round  the 
neck  of  the  bottle,  just  below  the  orifice  ;  th.en,  with  a 
sudden,  sharp  blow  of  tlie  same  knife,  he  sent  the  neck, 
cork,  and  wire  fastenings  flying.  The  foam  burst  forth 
like  blood  from  a  severed  human  neck,  but  Schneider,  who 
stood  ready,  caught  it  in  a  glass. 

The  little  man  fillt^d  the  glasses,  but  it  so  chanced  that 
only  five  were  filled,  not  six.  That  of  Charles  was  left 
empty,  and  the  boy  took  care  not  to  show  it.  Edelmann, 
Schneider,  ^lonnet,  and  Young,  clicked  their  glasses  with 
that  of  the  little  man.  Whether  it  was  a  chance  hand  blow, 
or  whether  it  was  an  omen,  Schneider's  glass  was  broken 
by  the  click. 

All  five  cried  out,  '*  Vive  la  République  !  "  But  only 
four  could  drink  the  toast;  the  wine  had  run  from  Schnei- 
der's broken  glass.  A  few  drops  remained  in  the  bottle. 
Schneider  seized  it  with  a  feverish  hand,  and  put  the  neck 
of  it  hastily  to  his  lips.  More  hastily  he  withdrew  it.  The 
sharp  edges  of  the  broken  glass  had  cut  his  lip  through 
to  the  teeth.  A  blasphemy  burst  from  his  bleeding  mouth, 
and  he  dashed  the  bottle  to  fragments  on  the  floor. 


60  THE    FIRST    EEPUBLIC. 

"Nine  o'clock  is  the  hour,  is  it?"  said  the  little  man, 
tranquilly. 

"  Yes,  and  to  the  devil  with  you  !  "  said  Schneider,  hold- 
ing his  handkerchief  to  his  mouth. 

Maître  Nicolas  bowed  and  went  away.  Schneider,  who 
had  turned  very  pale,  and  came  near  fainting  at  the  sight 
of  his  own  blood  which  flowed  profusely,  had  fallen  into  a 
chair.  Edelmann  and  Young  went  to  his  assistance. 
Charles  pulled  Monnet  by  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 

"Tell  me,"  he  whispered,  quivering  with  emotion  at  the 
strange  scene  he  had  just  witnessed,  "Avho  is  Maître 
Nicolas  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  "  asked  Monnet. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  I  came  to  Strasbourg  only 
yesterday." 

Monnet  did  not  reply  in  words,  but  he  passed  his  hand 
around  his  neck. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  Charles. 

Monnet  dropped  his  voice. 

"  Can't  you  understand  he  is  the  executioner  ?  " 

Charles  shuddered. 

" Then  the  machine  is  —  is  —  ?" 

"  Yes,  by  God  !  " 

"What  is  he  going  to  do  with  the  guillotine  at  Plob- 
sheim  ?  " 

"  He  told  you  himself  —  marry  !  " 

Charles  wrung  the  cold  damp  hand  of  the  man  who 
answered  him,  and  darted  from  the  room.  He  saw,  as  if 
through  a  mist  of  blood,  the  awful  truth. 


FILIAL   LOVE,   OR   THE    WOODEN   LEG.  61 


vn. 


FILIAL    LOVE,   OR    THE    WOODEX    LEG. 

Charles  returned  at  a  run  to  Madame  Teutch,  like  a  hare 
to  its  form,  a  fox  to  its  burrow  ;  that  was  his  haven,  his 
place  of  safety.  When  he  got  there  he  felt  secure  ;  once 
over  the  threshold  of  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne,  it  seemed  to 
him  he  had  nothing  more  to  fear. 

He  asked  at  once  for  his  young  comrade.  Eugène  was 
in  his  room,  fencing  with  a  sergeant-major  of  a  regiment  in 
garrison  at  Strasbourg.  The  man  had  served  under  his 
father,  the  ^Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  who  had  several  times 
taken  notice  of  his  bravery.  When  the  marquis  heard  that 
his  son  was  going  to  Strasbourg  to  seek  for  documents  that 
were  required  for  his  defence,  he  requested  Eugène  to  con- 
tinue the  training  necessary  to  all  young  men  of  good 
family,  and  to  ask  if  a  certain  sergeant,  Pierre  Augereau, 
was  still  stationed  at  Strasbourg,  and  if  he  were,  to  take 
fencing  lessons  of  hira. 

Eugène  inquired,  and  found  Pierre  Augereau  ;  only,  that 
warrior  being  now  sergeant-major,  he  no  longer  fenced  except 
for  pleasure.  But  as  soon  as  the  worth}^  soldier  knew 
that  it  was  the  son  of  his  old  commander  who  wanted  lessons, 
he  declared  it  would  be  for  his  own  pleasure  to  have  bouts 
with  Eugène  at  the  inn.  The  special  cause  of  the  sergeant- 
major's  subsequent  assiduity  was  that  he  soon  found  out 
his  pupil  was  almost  his  master,  and  could  admirably 
defend  himself  against  the  rough  and  inconsequent  play 
of  his  old-fashioned  practice.  Besides  (and  this  reason 
deserved  a  front  rank),  every  time  he  went  to  fence  with 
his  pupil,  the  pupil  invited  him  to  dinner,  and  the  dinners 
of  the  citoyenne  Teutch  were  far  preferable  to  those  in 
barracks. 


62  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Pierre  Augereau  was  in  a  regiment  which  had  gone  out 
of  the  town  that  morning  in  pursuit  of  the  Austrians,  and 
he  had  seen  his  pupil  on  the  ramparts,  gun  in  hand.  He 
had  made  him  all  sorts  of  signs  with  his  sabre,  but  the  lad 
was  so  busy  in  sending  his  own  balls  after  the  Austrians 
that  he  did  not  even  see  the  telegraphic  signals  of  the 
worthy  sergeant-major.  Citoyenne  Teutch  was  the  first  to 
tell  the  latter  that  Eugène  had  come  very  near  being  killed. 
She  showed  him  the  cap  with  the  hole  in  it,  and  related 
how  the  young  fellow  had  returned  shot  for  shot,  —  a  fatal 
return  for  the  Austrian  dragoon.  When,  therefore,  Auge- 
reau went  up  to  his  pupil's  room,  he  made  him  a  great  many 
compliments,  and  his  pupil,  as  usual,  invited  him  to  the 
meal  that,  in  Germany,  comes  between  the  mid-day  break- 
fast, which  is  almost  a  dinner,  and  the  supper,  which  is 
served  at  ten  o'clock  at  night. 

When  Charles  arrived,  the  master  and  pupil  were  just 
saluting;  the  bout  was  over.  Eugène  had  shown  himself 
very  vigorous,  alert,  and  agile,  so  that  Augereau  was  par- 
ticularly proud  of  him.  The  table  was  set  in  the  same 
little  room  where  the  two  lads  had  breakfasted  in  the 
morning.  Eugène  presented  his  new  friend  to  the  sergeant- 
major  (who,  seeing  him  so  pale  and  puny,  took  a  very  poor 
idea  of  him),  and  begged  Madame  Teutch  to  set  anotha»* 
place  at  the  table.  But  Charles  declared  he  was  not  hungry, 
he  had  just  finished  dinner,  he  would  only  drink  to  the  pro- 
motion of  the  sergeant-major  ;  as  for  food,  he  did  n't  want 
any. 

To  explain,  not  his  want  oi  appetite,  which  was  easily 
explainable  by  the  fact  that  he  had  dined,  but  his  paleness 
and  agitation,  he  related  the  scene  he  had  just  witnessed. 

After  that,  Pierre  Augereau  told  the  lads  the  story  of 
his  life  and  adventures.  He  was  born,  he  said,  in  the  faubourg 
Saint-Marceau,  of  a  journeyman  mason  and  a  fruit  girl  : 
from  his  infancy  he  had  had  a  fancy  for  boxing;  he  had 
learned  that  and  fencing  as  a  Parisian  gamin  learns  every- 
thing; his  adventurous  life  took  him  to  Naples,  where  he 


FILIAL   LOVE,   OR   THE    WOODEN    LEG.  63 

entered  the  service  of  King  Ferdinand  as  a  carbineer  ;  there 
he  first  taught  fencing,  being  careful  (and  it  was  this  that 
made  his  fence  extremely  dangerous)  to  mix  the  Neapolitan 
system  with  the  French  system.  In  1792,  when  the  order 
was  issued  for  all  Frenchmen  to  leave  Naples,  he  returned 
to  France,  which  he  reached  two  days  before  the  2d  of 
September,  just  in  time  to  join  the  volunteers  whom  Danton 
was  sending  from  the  Champ  de  Mars  to  the  armies,  and 
who  took  so  brilliant  a  part  in  the  battle  of  Jemmapes. 
Augereau  had  there  received  his  first  rank  ;  thence  he  was 
sent  to  the  Army  of  the  Khiue,  where  the  Marquis  de 
Beauharnais  made  him  sergeant,  and  where  he  had  lately 
been  promoted  sergeant-major.  He  was  now  thirty-six 
years  old,  and  his  great  ambition  was  to  rise  to  the  rank 
of  captain. 

Eugène  had  nothing  to  relate  ;  but  he  made  a  proposal 
which  was  received  with  acclamations  ;  namely,  to  go  tf» 
the  theatre  and  distract  Charles's  mind  from  his  gloom} 
thoughts.  A  troupe  of  actors  under  the  management  of 
citizen  Bergère  were  just  then  playing  at  the  Breuil  Theatre 
Yoltaire's  ''Brutus,"  and  "Filial  Love,  or  the  Wooden  Leg," 
by  citizen  Demoustiers. 

They  shortened  their  dinner,  and  by  six  o'clock  the  two 
lads,  protected  by  the  sergeant-major,  who  was  a  head  taller 
than  the}"-,  and  possessed  a  pair  of  vigorous  fists  which  were 
always  at  the  service  of  his  friends,  entered  the  theatre, 
already  crowded  with  spectators,  and  found,  though  with 
much  difficulty,  three  places  on  the  eighth  seat  from  the 
orchestra.     At  this  period  stalls  were  unknown. 

The  happy  issue  of  the  morning  fight  had  made  the  day 
a  sort  of  fête  ;  and  the  tragedy  of  "  Brutus,"  which  hap- 
pened to  be  on  the  bills  for  that  day,  seemed  like  a  homage 
rendered  to  the  courageous  conduct  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  town.  Persons  were  pointing  out  to  each  other  among 
the  audience  the  heroes  of  the  day,  and  it  was  known  that 
the  young  actor  Avho  played  the  part  of  Titus  had  not 
only  taken  part  in  the  battle,  but  was  wounded. 


64  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

Amid  the  noise  which  always  precedes  the  representation 
of  a  play  when  the  house  is  crowded,  the  manager  came 
forward  and  struck  three  raps  ;  instantly,  as  if  by  magic, 
the  audience  was  silent.  It  is  true  that,  seconding  the 
blows  of  the  manager's  stick,  silence  was  commanded  by 
the  all-powerful  voice  of  ïétrell,  who  was  elated  at  the 
triumph  he  had  won  that  morning  in  the  Propaganda  over 
Euloge  Schneider. 

Charles  at  once  recognized  his  nocturnal  acquaintance 
and  pointed  him  out  to  Eugène,  without,  however,  saying 
a  word  of  their  meeting  or  of  the  warning  sent  by  him. 
Eugène  knew  him,  too,  from  having  seen  him  in  the  streets 
of  Strasbourg  ;  he  had  heard  that  he  was  one  of  his  father's 
persecutors,  and  regarded  him  therefore  with  an  angry  eye. 
As  for  Pierre  Augereau,  he  saw  the  man  for  the  first  time, 
and,  humorist  that  he  was,  like  all  true  sons  of  the  Parisian 
faubourgs,  the  fact  that  struck  him  most  was  Te'trell's 
gigantic  nose,  the  nostrils  of  which  spread  extravagantly 
over  his  two  cheeks,  and  bore  some  resemblance  to  those 
extinguishers  which  sextons  carry  round  on  long  sticks  to 
put  out  the  flame  of  the  wax  tapers  which  are  too  tall  for 
them  to  blow  out. 

The  small  Charles  happened  to  be  seated  just  below  Tét- 
rell.  Augereau,  who  was  separated  from  him  by  Eugène, 
proposed  to  change  places  with  him. 

''  Why  ?  "  asked  Charles. 

"  Because  you  are  in  a  draught  of  air  from  citizen  Tét- 
rell's  nose,"  said  the  sergeant-major,  "  and  I  'm  afraid  when 
he  breathes  he  will  blow  you  away." 

As  Tetrell  was  more  feared  than  liked,  the  speech  made 
those  about  them  laugh. 

"  Silence  !  "  roared  Tetrell. 

*'  What  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  Augereau,  in  the  aggra- 
vating tone  peculiar  to  the  gamin  de  Paris. 

He  stood  up  and  turned  round  to  face  the  man  who  had 
called  to  him,  and  as  he  did  so  the  audience  recognized  the 
uniform  of  the  regiment  that  had  gone  out  to  defend  the 


FILIAL   LOVE,    OR   THE    WOODEN   LEG.  65 

city  that  morning  ;  instantly  the  applause  broke  forth, 
accompanied  by  cries  of,' — 

"  Bravo,  sergeant-major  !  hurrah  for  the  sergeant- 
major  !  " 

Augereau  made  a  military  salute,  and  sat  down  as  the 
curtain  was  then  going  up.  The  attention  of  the  audience 
turned  to  the  stage,  and  Tetrell's  nose,  as  well  as  the  ser- 
geant-major's speech,  was  forgotten. 

In  Voltaire's  tragedy  the  curtain  rises,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, on  a  session  of  the  Roman  senate  at  which  Junius 
Brutus,  first  Roman  consul  with  Publicola,  announces  that 
ïarquin,  who  is  besieging  Rome,  has  sent  an  ambassador. 

It  was  easy  to  see  the  sort  of  spirit  that  animated  the 
audience  when,  after  the  first  thirty-eight  lines,  Brutus 
declaimed  the  following  :  — 

Rome  kuows  that  her  freedom  was  ever  my  aim  ; 

Our  views  are  divergent,  our  object  the  same. 

I  see  in  these  envoys  who  hither  have  come, 

The  homage  of  kings  to  the  people  of  Rome. 

Let  us  treat  with  them  tlien,  and  accustom  their  pride 

To  place  our  Republic,  a  peer,  at  their  side, 

Till  the  day  when,  fulfilling  high  heaven's  decrees. 

They  are  forced  to  make  treaties  with  us  —  on  their  knees  ! 

Thunders  of  applause  burst  forth  ;  it  seemed  as  though 
France,  like  Rome,  had  a  presentiment  of  her  glorious  des- 
tiny. Brutus,  interrupted  in  the  middle  of  his  speech,  was 
unable  to  continue  it  for  over  ten  minutes. 

He  was  interrupted  a  second  time  with  still  greater 
warmth  when  he  reached  these  lines  :  — 

Beaten  down  'neath  a  sceptre  of  iron  so  long, 

Our  race,  through  misfortune,  lias  learned  to  be  strong. 

Revolt  and  rebellion  were  born  of  our  kings. 

From  the  crimes  of  the  Tarquins  our  liberty  springs  ; 

And  Tuscans  may  learn,  in  the  hour  of  their  need, 

When  oppressed  by  their  tyrants,  to  follow  our  lead. 

Here,  the  actors  made  a  pause.  The  consuls  walked  to 
the  altar  with  the  senate  ;  as  they  walked,  the  house  rang 

VOL.   I. — 5 


66  THE   FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

with  cries  and  bravos  !     Then  all  were  hushed  to  listen  to 
the  invocation  :  — 

Oh  !  Mars,  god  of  heroes,  of  battles,  of  Rome, 

Fighting  ever  with  us  in  defence  of  our  home, 

On  thy  altar,  great  Mars,  hear  thy  votary  now  ; 

In  the  name  of  all  Romans  I  make  tliee  this  vow  : 

If  there  be  iu  our  city  one  traitor  alone 

"Who  would  fain  see  proud  Tarquin  restored  to  his  throne, 

In  tortures  and  torments  that  wretch  shall  expire, 

His  ashes  be  given  to  tlie  winds  from  tlie  fire  ; 

And  his  name  shall  iu  deeper  abhorrence  be  lield 

Than  that  of  the  tyrants  wliom  Rome  has  expelled  ! 

In  times  of  political  effervescence  no  one  thinks  of  the 
merit  or  demerit  of  the  verses  they  applaud,  only  of  their 
harmony  with  our  feelings.  Seldom  indeed  have  windier 
tirades  passed  the  lips  of  an  actor,  yet  never  did  the 
splendid  lines  of  Corneille  and  Racine  call  forth  equal 
enthusiasm. 

On  the  present  occasion  this  enthusiasm,  which  already 
seemed  to  have  reached  a  point  whence  it  could  go  no 
farther,  burst  all  bounds  when  the  curtain  rose  upon  ihe 
second  act  and  the  young  actor  who  played  the  part  of 
Titus  (he  was  a  brother  of  Mme.  Fleury  of  the  Théâtre- 
Français)  came  forward  with  his  arm  in  a  sling.  An 
Austrian  bullet  had  gone  through  his  biceps. 

The  few  verses  which  made  allusion  to  the  victories  of 
Titus  and  to  his  patriotism  were  encored,  and  then,  reject- 
ing the  proposals  of  Porsenna,  Titus  said  :  — 

In  Rome  I  was  born,  and  for  Rome  I  would  die. 
Though  the  Senate  full  justice  to  me  may  deny, 
Yet  better  by  far  is  their  rule,  though  severe, 
Than  the  sceptre  of  tyrants  wiio  govern  by  fear. 
On  my  heart,  like  my  father's,  are  graven  two  things. 
The  worship  of  Freedom,  the  hatred  of  Kings  ! 

And  finally,  when  in  the  succeeding  scene  he  cries  out, 
renouncing  his  love  :  — 


FILIAL   LOVE,   OR   THE   WOODEN   LEG.  67 

I  banish  that  hope  with  a  resolute  will  ; 
Rome  summons  me  now  to  the  Capitol  Hill, 
Where  those  arches  triumphal  my  glory  proclaim. 
The  people,  assembled,  are  calliug  my  name 
To  swear  the  great  oath,  that  secures  to  the  end 
The  liberties  Romans  will  die  to  defend  !  — 

the  wildly  enthusiastic  young  men  rushed  upon  the  stage, 
embraced  the  actor,  and  clasped  his  hands,  while  all  the 
women  present  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  flung  flowers 
to  their  hero. 

Nothing  was  wanting  to  the  triumph  of  Voltaire  and 
Brutus,  —  above  all  to  that  of  Fleury,  who  carried  off  the 
honors  of  the  evening. 

We  have  said  that  the  second  piece  was  by  Demoustiers, 
and  was  entitled  '•  Filial  Love,  or  the  Wooden  Leg."  It 
was  one  of  those  so-called  idyls  furnished  by  the  republi- 
can Muse  ;  for  it  is  very  remarkable  that  never  was 
dramatic  literature  so  completely  diluted  rose-water  as  it 
was  during  the  years  '92,  '93,  and  '94.  That  is  the  period 
in  which  were  written  "  La  Mort  d'Abel  ;  "  "  Le  Concilia- 
teur ;  "  "  Les  Femmes  ;  "  and  "  La  Belle  Fermière."  It 
would  seem  as  though  the  people,  after  the  bloody  emotions 
of  each  day,  needed  such  goody  insipidities  at  night  to 
restore  their  balance.  Xero  crowned  himself  with  flowers 
after  burning  Rome. 

But  an  event  connected  with  the  combat  of  the  morning 
put  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  presenting  the  trash  prepared 
for  the  present  occasion.  Madame  Fromont,  who  played 
the  part  of  Louise,  the  only  woman  in  the  piece,  had  lost 
her  husband  and  her  father,  both  having  been  killed  in  the 
fight  of  the  morning.  It  was  therefore  almost  impossible 
that  she  should  play,  under  such  circumstances,  the  part 
of  a  loving  woman,  or  indeed  any  part.  The  curtain  was 
raised,  and  Titus-Fleury  came  forward  with  tears  in  his 
eyes  to  beg  the  audience,  in  the  name  of  Madame  Fromont, 
to  kindly  consent  to  the  substitution  of  the  opera  of  "  Rose 
and  Colas  "  for  that  of  "  Filial  Love,"  giving  as  a  reason, 


p8  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

that  Madame  Fromont  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  at  the 
loss  of  her  father  and  husband,  who  had  given  their  lives 
for  the  Republic. 

Cries  of  "  Yes  !  yes  !  "  mingled  with  unanimous  applause, 
resounded  through  the  house,  and  Fleury  was  just  retiring 
from  the  stage,  when  Tetrell,  rising,  made  a  sign  that  he 
wished  to  speak.     Instantly  several  voices  cried  out  :  — 

"  It  is  Tetrell,  the  friend  of  the  people  !  ïétrell,  the 
terror  of  aristocrats  !     Let  us  hear  Tetrell  I  " 


THE   PROVOCATION.  69 


VIIL 

THE    PROVOCATION. 

That  evening  Tetrell  was  more  elegant  than  ever.  He 
wore  a  blue  coat  with  wide  lapels  and  gilt  buttons,  a  waist- 
coat of  white  piqué,  the  lapels  of  which  almost  covered 
those  of  the  coat  ;  a  tricolor  sash  with  a  gold  fringe  was 
round  his  waist,  and  in  that  sash  were  stuck  superb  pistols 
with  ivory-inlaid  handles  and  barrels  damascened  with 
gold;  his  sabre,  in  a  red  morocco  scabbard,  dangled  inso- 
lently over  the  balcony  and  hung  suspended  above  the  pit 
like  another  sword  of  Damocles.  He  prefaced  his  speech 
by  striking  on  the  railing  of  the  box,  which  sent  the  dust 
flying  from  the  velvet. 

"  What  is  this  I  find  here,  citizens  ?  "  he  said  in  a  tone 
of  anger.  "  I  thought  I  was  in  Sparta  ;  it  seems  I  was 
mistaken,  —  we  are  in  Corinth  or  at  Sybaris.  Is  it  in  pres- 
ence of  republican  men  that  a  republican  woman  dares  to 
put  forward  such  excuses  ?  Are  we  no  better  than  those 
miserable  slaves  across  the  river,  those  dogs  of  aristocrats 
who,  when  we  whip  them,  crack  their  lungs  in  howling 
'  Libera  !  '  Two  men  have  died  for  their  country  ;  immor- 
tal glory  to  their  memory  !  The  women  of  Sparta  pre- 
sented bucklers  to  their  sons  and  husbands  saying  but  four 
words  :  '  With,  or  upon  them.'  If  they  returned  upon 
them — that  is,  dead — the  women  put  on  their  gayest 
garments.  The  citoyenne  Froment  is  pretty.  Lovers  will 
not  be  lacking  to  her.  All  the  handsome  men  in  town 
were  not  killed  at  the  gate  of  Haguenau.  As  for  her 
father,  there  is  not  an  old  patriot  in  the  place  who  would 
not  be  glad  to  change  places  with  him.  Don't  expect, 
citizen  Meury,  to  touch  our  feelings  with  the  pretended 
sorrows  of  a  woman  who  has  been  favored  with  the  for- 


70  THE   FIEST   KEPUBLIC. 

tune  of  war,  who  lias  just  acquired  by  means  of  a  cannon- 
ball  a  crown  for  her  dowry,  and  a  whole  people  for  her 
family.  Go,  tell  her  to  appear  ;  go,  tell  her  to  sing  ;  tell 
her,  above  all,  to  stop  her  tears  ;  this  is  a  day  of  public 
rejoicing;  tears  are  for  aristocrats  !" 

Every  one  kept  silence.  Tetrell  was,  as  we  have  said, 
the  third  power  in  Strasbourg,  more  feared  perhaps  than 
either  of  the  two  others.  The  actor  Fleury  backed  off  the 
stage,  and  live  minutes  later  the  curtain  rose  for  the  first 
scene  of  ''  Filial  Love  "  —  which  proved  that  Tetrell  was 
obeyed. 

It  is  absolutely  necessary,  for  a  complete  understanding 
of  the  scene  which  follows,  that  I  should  give  an  analysis 
of  this  pitiable  pastoral,  which  I  have  taken  the  wearisome 
trouble  to  read  through. 

The  piece  opens  with  the  following  verses,  to  a  well- 
known  tune  :  — 

Youthful  lover,  gather  flowers 

For  the  garlands  of  thy  maid  ; 
Love  shall  grant  in  bosky  bowers 

Tender  favors  gladly  paid. 

An  old  soldier  has  retired  to  a  cottage  at  the  foot  of  the 
Alps,  near  the  battle-field  of  Nef  eld,  where  he  was  wounded, 
and  where  his  life  was  saved  by  another  soldier  whom  he 
has  never  seen  since.  He  lives  alone  with  his  son,  who, 
after  singing  the  four  opening  stanzas,  of  which  the  fore- 
going is  one,  sings  the  next  four,  which  complete  the  idea  ; 
they  end  thus  :  — 

But  mine  's  a  love  surpassing  that 

Man  feels  for  anj'  maid  ; 
I  gather  flowers  to  deck  the  hat 

That  shields  my  father's  head,  — 

an  occupation  all  the  more  ridiculous  for  a  tall  fellow  of 
twenty-five,  because  the  old  soldier  wakes  up  before  the 
crown  is  made,  and  we  are  not  allowed  to  see  whether  the 


THE   PROVOCATION.  71 

wreath  of  water-lilies  and  forget-me-not  became  him.  In 
exchange,  however,  we  are  given  a  duet,  in  which  the  son 
repels  the  ideas  of  love  and  marriage  which  the  father 
endeavors  to  put  into  him  ;  the  son  winds  up  his  share  of 
the  duet  with  :  — 

I  know  the  sweetest  love  of  all 
Is  that  I  feel  for  you. 

But  he  presently  changes  his  opinion.  Having  gath- 
ered the  flowers  to  crown  his  father,  he  now  goes  to  gather 
the  fruit  for  his  breakfast.  Meanwhile  a  young  girl  rushes 
upon  the  scene,  singing  ;  — 

Ah  !  kind  old  man, 
Ah  !  help  me,  pray  ; 
Have  you  seen  a  traveller  pass  this  way  ? 

This  traveller  is  the  young  girl's  father.  The  old  man 
has  not  seen  him  ;  and  as  she  is  very  anxious  and  uneasy, 
she  stops  and  eats  some  breakfast  and  goes  to  sleep.  Then 
everybody  sets  out  to  search  for  the  lost  father,  and  Armand 
(that  is,  the  young  man  who  gathered  flowers  for  his  father) 
finds  him,  —  all  the  more  easily  because  he  is  sixty  years 
old  and  has  a  wooden  leg.  It  is  easy  to  understand  the 
joy  with  which  Louise  beholds  her  recovered  father  ;  a  joy 
doubled  by  the  discovery,  after  a  very  short  explanation, 
that  the  father  of  Louise  is  the  very  soldier  who  saved 
the  life  of  Armand's  father  at  the  battle  of  Nefeld,  and 
who  lost,  in  consequence  of  that  service,  a  leg,  which 
royal  munificence  has  replaced  with  a  wooden  one,  —  an 
unexpected  bit  of  luck  which  justifies  the  picturesque 
double  title  of  the  play,  "Filial  Love,  or  the  Wooden 
Leg." 

So  long  as  poor  Madame  Fromont  could  wander  about 
the  stage,  and  call  to  the  Alpine  echoes  to  restore  her 
father,  her  tears  and  her  distress  only  helped  her  part  ; 
but  when  he  was  found,  the  contrast  of  that  theatrical 
situation  to  her  own  struck  the  poor  soul,  who  had  lost  her 


72  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

own  father  forever,  in  all  its  appalling  truth.  The  actress 
ceased  to  be  an  actress  ;  she  became  an  actual  wife,  an 
actual  daughter.  She  uttered  a  mournful  cry,  pushed  her 
pretended  father  from  her,  and  fell  in  a  SAvoon  ;  the  actors 
caught  her  and  carried  her  from  the  stage. 

The  curtain  fell.  Then  a  fearful  tumult  arose  among 
the  audience.  Most  of  them  took  part  for  poor  Madame 
Fromont  and  cried  out,  "Enough  !  enough  !''  Others  called 
to  her,  "Citoyenne  Fromont!  citoyenne  Fromont!"  but 
more  with  the  wish  to  recall  her  and  give  her  an  ovation, 
than  to  force  her  to  go  on  with  her  part.  A  few  malevo- 
lent minds,  hardened  Catos  (Tetrell  was  among  them)  cried 
out:  — 

"  The  play  !  go  on  with  the  play  !  " 

After  about  five  minutes  of  this  frightful  uproar,  the 
curtain  rose,  silence  was  restored,  and  the  poor  widow 
appeared,  pale  and  bathed  in  tears,  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
Fleury,  who  seemed  to  make  himself  her  protector;  she 
came,  scarcely  able  to  drag  herself  along,  to  thank  those 
who  had  shown  her  sympathy,  and  to  implore  the  mercy  of 
the  others. 

At  the  sight,  the  whole  house  resounded  with  applause 
and  bravos,  which  would  have  been  unanimous  if  a  loud 
hissing  from  the  balcony  had  not  protested  against  the 
universal  feeling. 

But  the  hiss  had  hardly  sounded  before  a  voice  replied  to 
it  from  the  pit,  crying  out  :  — 

"Wretch!" 

Tetrell  gave  a  bound  ;  leaning  over  the  edge  of  the  bal- 
cony, he  roared  out  :  — 

"  Who  said  '  wretch  '  ?  " 

"  I,"  said  the  same  voice. 

"  Whom  did  you  mean  by  *  wretch  '  ?  " 

"  You." 

"You  are  hiding  there  in  the  pit;  you  dare  not  show 
yourself." 

A  lad,  about  fifteen,  sprang  on  a  bench  at  a  bound,  stand- 


THE   PROVOCATION.  73 

ing  higher  than  those  about  him  by  the  whole  length  of 
his  body. 

"  Here  I  am  !  "  he  said  ;  •*'  I  show  myself,  and  you  can 
see  me." 

"  Eugène  Beauharnais  !  the  son  of  General  Beauharnais  !  " 
cried  several  of  the  audience,  who  knew  the  father  when 
stationed  at  Strasbourg,  and  also  the  son,  who  had  been 
there  for  some  time.  General  Beauharnais  was  greatl}^ 
beloved.  A  little  group  now  gathered  about  the  lad,  whom 
Augereau  on  one  side  and  Charles  on  the  other,  were  pre- 
paring to  sustain. 

"  Wolf-cub  of  an  aristocrat  !  "  cried  ïétrell,  seeing  the 
adversary  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 

"  Bastard  of  a  wolf  !  "  replied  the  youth,  nothing  daunted 
by  the  uplifted  fist  and  threatening  eyes  of  the  leader  of 
the  Propaganda. 

"  If  you  make  me  come  down  to  you,"  cried  Tetrell, 
"  beware  !     I  '11  flog  you." 

"  If  you  make  me  come  up  to  you,"  responded  Eugène, 
"beware  !  I  '11  box  your  ears." 

"  There  !  there  's  for  you,  brat  !  "  said  Tetrell,  forcing  a 
laugh  and  making  an  insulting  gesture. 

"  There  !  there 's  for  you,  coward  !  "  retorted  the  youth, 
flinging  his  glove,  into  which  he  had  slipped  two  or  three 
leaden  balls.  The  missile,  thrown  with  the  aocurac}^  of  a 
schoolboy,  struck  Tetrell  full  in  the  face.  He  uttered  a 
cry  of  rage,  put  his  hand  to  his  cheek,  and  found  it  covered 
with  blood. 

It  would  have  taken  Tetrell,  with  the  thirst  of  vengeance 
upon  him,  too  long  to  go  round  by  the  corridors.  He  drew 
a  pistol  and  aimed  at  the  lad,  around  whom  a  space  was 
instantly  cleared,  each  man  fearing  that  Tetrell's  hand, 
which  trembled  with  passion,  would  send  the  projectile 
wide  of  its  mark. 

At  the  same  instant  a  man  wearing  the  uniform  of  the 
volunteers  of  Paris,  and  on  the  arm  of  that  uniform  the 
chevrons  of  a  sergeant,  flung  himself  between  Tetrell  and 


74  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  lad,  covering  the  latter  with  his  body  and  crossing  his 
arms. 

"All  very  fine,  citizen,"  he  said,  "but  when  a  man 
carries  a  sabre  at  his  side,  he  does  n't  assassinate." 

"  Bravo,  the  volunteer  !  bravo,  the  sergeant  !  "  shouted 
the  audience  from  all  parts  of  the  house. 

"Do  you  know,"  continued  the  volunteer,  "what  this 
lad,  this  wolf's-cub,  this  brat,  as  you  call  him,  was  doing 
while  you  —  you  —  were  making  fine  speeches  at  your 
Propaganda  ?  He  was  fighting  to  prevent  the  enemy  from 
entering  Strasbourg.  You  were  demanding  the  heads  of 
your  friends  ;  he  was  destroying  the  enemies  of  France. 
Put  back  your  pistol  into  your  belt,  for  it  does  n't  in  the 
least  frighten  me,  and  listen  to  the  rest  I  have  to  say  to 
you." 

The  most  profound  silence  filled  the  theatre,  and  on  the 
stage,  the  curtain  being  still  raised,  were  a  mass  of  actors, 
machinists,  and  sohliers  of  the  guard.  In  the  midst  of  this 
silence,  filled  with  intense  excitement,  the  volunteer  con- 
tinued, not  raising  his  voice,  which  was,  however,  heard 
distinctly  by  each  person  present. 

"Wliat  I  have  still  to  say,"  continued  the  sergeant, 
unmasking  the  person  of  the  youth  and  laying  a  hand  upon 
his  shoulder,  "is,  that  this  lad,  who  is  no  wolf-cub  of 
aristocracy,  no  brat,  but  a  man,  whom  victory  has  this 
day  baptized  a  republican  on  the  battlefield,  after  having 
insulted  3-ou,  defies  you  ;  after  calling  you  a  wretch  he 
calls  you  a  coward  ;  and  he  will  await  your  second  and  fight 
you  with  any  weapon  you  choose  —  always  provided  that 
you  do  not  follow  your  usual  custom,  and  make  your  second 
the  executioner  and  your  weapon  the  guillotine.  It  is  I 
who  tell  you  this,  do  you  hear  me  ?  in  his  name  and  mine  ; 
it  is  I  who  answer  for  him,  —  I,  Pierre  Augereau,  sergeant- 
major  of  the  first  regiment  of  the  volunteers  of  Paris. 
And  now  go  hang  yourself,  or  what  you  will.  Come,  citizen 
Eugène." 

He  circled  the  lad  with  his  arm  and  put  him  on  the 


THE   PROVOCATION,  75 

ground  ;  but  as  he  did  so  he  contrived  to  lift  him  high  in 
order  that  the  whole  house  might  see  him  ;  the  applause 
was  frantic. 

Amid  those  cries,  hurrahs,  and  bravos,  he  left  the  theatre 
with  the  two  lads,  half  the  audience  following  them  to  the 
hôtel  de  la  Lanterne,  shouting,  — 

^'  Vive  la  République  !  long  live  the  volunteers  of  Paris  ! 
down  with  Tetrell  !  " 


76  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 


DL 


CHARLES    IS    ARRESTED. 


When  kind  Madame  Teutch  heard  the  uproar  in  the  street, 

which  was  evidently  approaching  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne, 
she  appeared  on  the  sill  of  the  door,  and  from  afar  she  saw, 
by  the  light  of  the  torches  which  the  most  enthusiastic 
had  obtained,  her  two  young  charges  and  sergeant-major 
Pierre  Augereau,  brought  back  to  her  in  triumph. 

The  fear  which  ïétrell  had  sown  about  him  throughout 
the  town  had  borne  its  fruit,  and  the  harvest  was  now  ripe  ; 
he  reaped  hatred.  Thirty  or  more  willing  men  proposed  to 
Pierre  Augereau  to  watch  over  Eugene's  safety,  thinking  it 
very  possible  that  Tetrell  miglit  profit  by  the  darkness  to 
do  him  some  ill  turn.  But  the  sergeant-major  thanked 
them,  saying  he  would  himself  watch  over  the  lad  and  be 
responsible  for  his  safety.  Only  (to  retain  all  this  good- 
will which  might  be  useful  later)  the  sergeant-major 
thought  it  advisable  to  offer  a  glass  of  punch,  or  one  of  hot 
wine,  to  the  leaders  of  the  escort.  The  proposal  was 
scarcely  made  before  the  kitchen  of  the  inn  was  crammed, 
and  the  boiling  of  the  wine  began  in  an  immense  caldron, 
with  plenty  of  sugar  and  a  mixture  of  alcohol. 

The  crowd  did  not  depart  till  midnight,  after  exchanging 
many  grasps  of  the  hand  and  many  oaths  of  alliance  offen- 
sive and  defensive,  interspersed  with  cries  of  ''Vive  la 
République  !  " 

But  when  the  last  imbiber  of  boiled  wine  had  departed, 
when  the  door  was  closed  upon  him,  and  the  shutters  were 
shut  with  care,  so  that  no  light  could  be  seen  from  the 
windows,  Augereau  became  serious  and  said  to  Eugène  :  — 

"  Now,  my  young  friend,  we  must  think  of  your  safety." 

"  My  safety  ?  "  cried  the  youth.     "  Did  n't  you  say  your- 


CHARLES    IS   ARRESTED.  77 

self  X  xiad  nothing  to  fear,  and  that  you  would  answer  for 
me?" 

"  Certainly  I  answer  for  you,  but  only  on  condition  of 
your  doing  as  I  wish." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  let  us  see  that  first  ; 
you  won't  wish  me  to  do  anything  cowardly,  I  hope  ?  " 

"Hey!  monsieur  le  marquis,"  said  Augereau,  "  no  such 
suspicions  as  that,  or  by  the  thousand  thunders  of  the 
Republic  !  we  shall  quarrel." 

"  Come,  come  !  my  good  Pierre,  don't  get  angry.  What 
do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  Tell  me  quick." 

"  I  don't  trust  a  man  with  such  a  nose  as  Tétrell's 
when  it  is  n't  carnival  time.  Besides,  he  'II  never  fight  a 
duel." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"Because  he  looks  like  a  coward." 

"  Yes,  but  suppose  he  does  fight  ?  " 

"  If  he  fights,  of  course  that 's  all  right  ;  you  risk  a  cut 
with  a  sword,  or  a  pistol  ball,  and  the  thing  is  over;  but 
if  he  does  n't  fight  —  " 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  " 

"That's  quite  another  thing.  If  he  doesn't  fight,  you 
risk  having  your  head  chopped  off,  and  that's  what  I 
want  to  guard  against." 

"  How  will  5'-ou  do  it  ?  " 

"  By  taking  you  to  the  barracks  of  the  volunteers  of 
Paris  ;  he  won't  come  after  you  there,  I  '11  warrant." 

"  Hide  myself  ?     Never  !  " 

"  Hush  !  my  young  friend,"  said  the  sergeant-major, 
frowning  ;  "  don't  talk  in  that  way  before  Pierre  Augereau, 
who  knows  what  courage  is  ;  no,  you  won't  hide  yourself, 
you  '11  simply  wait,  that 's  all." 

"  What  am  I  to  wait  for  ?  " 

"  Tétrell's  seconds." 

"  His  seconds  !  he  will  send  them  here,  and  I  shall  not 
know  of  it  if  I  go  away." 

"  Well,  here 's  little  Charles,  who  risks  nothing  ;  has  n't 


78  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

he  been  created  and  sent  into  the  world  expressly  to  stay 
here  and  let  us  know  what  happens.  A  thousand  gods  ! 
what  a  troublesome  mind  you  've  got,  and  how  you  do  see 
difficulties  !     Come,  make  up  your  mind,  and  let 's  be  off." 

"  Charles  !  "  cried  Eugène,  "  the  first  thing  that  happens, 
no  matter  how  trifling  it  is,  you'll  come  to  the  barracks 
and  let  me  know,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor." 

"  All  right,"  said  Augereau.    "  To  the  right  about,  march  !  " 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

"  To  the  barracks." 

"  By  the  courtyard  ?  " 

"  By  the  courtyard." 

"  Why  not  through  the  door  ?  " 

"  Because  if  we  go  through  the  door,  some  idler  may  see 
us  and  follow  us  just  from  curiosity  ;  whereas  by  the  court- 
yard, I  know  a  certain  gate  which  opens  on  a  lane  where 
even  a  cat  does  n't  go  once  a  month,  —  a  lane  that  takes  us 
straight  to  the  barracks,  and  no  one  will  know  where  the 
turkeys  perch." 

"  You  remember  what  you  have  promised,  Charles  ?  " 

"  Though  I  'm  two  years  younger  than  you,  I  have  a 
word  of  honor  as  good  as  yours,  Eugene;  besides,  to-day 
has  made  me  older,  as  old  as  you.  Good-bye,  and  feel  easy  ; 
Augereau  will  watch  over  you,  and  1^11  watch  over  your 
honor." 

The  two  lads  shook  hands;  the  sergeant-major  almost 
cracked  poor  Charles's  fingers  as  he  gripped  them  in  his  own  ; 
then  he  dragged  Eugène  off  through  the  courtyard,  leaving 
Charles  endeavoring,  with  a  grin  of  pain,  to  separate  one 
finger  from  another.  That  operation  accomplished,  the  lad 
took  up  his  candlestick  as  usual,  and  his  key,  ran  up  to  his 
room,  and  went  to  bed. 

But  he  was  hardly  in  it  before  the  door  softly  opened, 
and  Madame  Teutch  came  in  on  tiptoe,  making  a  sign  with 
her  hand  that  she  had  something  very  important  to  say 
to  him.     The  lad  knew  enough  by  this  time  of  Madame 


CHARLES    IS   ARRESTED.  79 

Teutch's  mysterious  ways  not  to  be  alarmed  by  her  appear- 
ance in  his  room,  no  matter  at  what  unearthly  hour.  She 
came  up  to  the  bed,  murmuring  :  — 

"  Poor  cherub  !  " 

"  Well,  citoyenne  Teutch,"  said  Charles,  laughing,  "  what 
now  ?  " 

"  I  must  tell  you  what  has  happened,  though  I  know  it 
will  make  you  very  uneasy." 

"  When  did  something  happen  ?  " 

"  While  you  were  at  the  theatre." 

"  Goodness  !  and  what  did  happen  ?" 

"They  made  a  visit  here." 

"  They  ?  who  ?  " 

"  The  men  who  came  before  for  citizens  Dumont  and 
Ballu." 

"  Well,  they  did  n't  find  them  any  more  than  they  did 
the  first  time,  I  presume." 

"My  treasure,  they  didn't  come  for  them." 

"  For  whom,  then  ?  " 

"  For  you." 

"  For  me  ?  Ha  !  and  what  gives  me  the  honor  of  such  a 
visit  ?  " 

"  They  were  looking  for  the  writer  of  that  little  note, 
you  know." 

"  In  which  I  told  the  lawyers  to  cut  and  run  as  fast  as 
they  could  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  searched  your  room  and  tumbled  over  all 
your  papers." 

"  I  don't  mind  that  ;  they  did  n't  find  anything  against 
the  Republic  there." 

"  No,  but  they  found  an  act  of  a  tragedy." 

"  Ah  !  my  tragedy  of  *  Theramenes.'  " 

"  They  've  carried  it  off." 

"  The  wretches  !    luckily,  I  know  it  by  heart." 

"  But  do  you  know  why  they  took  it  ?  " 


80  THE    FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

"  Because  they  liked  the  verses,  I  suppose." 

"No,  because  they  saw  the  writing  was  the  same  as  in 
the  little  note." 

"  Goodness  !  that 's  serious." 

"You  know  the  law,  my  poor  boy;  whoever  harbors 
suspected  persons,  or  helps  them  to  escape  —  " 

"  The  punishment  is  death." 

"  Just  hear  him  say  that,  the  little  devil  !  as  cool  as  if 
he  was  asking  for  jam  on  his  bread." 

"  I  say  it  that  way,  Madame  Teutch,  because  there  is  n't 
any  danger  for  me  in  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Why  is  n't  there  any  danger  for 
you  ?  " 

"  Because  a  man  must  be  over  sixteen  to  have  the  honors 
of  the  guillotine." 

"  Are  you  sure,  my  dear  child  ?  " 

"  I  know  all  about  it  ;  besides  I  read  yesterday  on  the 
walls  a  new  decree  of  citizen  Saint-Just  forbidding  that  any 
warrant  should  be  served  without  first  communicating  the 
charge  to  him,  so  that  he  may  himself  question  the  accused 
person —     Stay!  one  thing  —  " 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  asked  Madame  Teutch. 

"Just  give  me  that  ink,  and  paper,  and  a  pen." 

He  took  the  pen  and  wrote  :  — 

"Citizen  Saint-Just,  I  have  just  been  arrested  illegally,  and 
believing  in  your  justice,  I  ask  to  be  brought  before  you." 

And  he  signed  it. 

"  There,"  he  said  to  Madame  Teutch,  "  in  these  days  one 
has  to  foresee  all.  If  I  'm  arrested,  send  that  note  to  citizen 
Saint-Just." 

"  Merciful  Father  !  you  poor  little  dear,  if  such  a  mis- 
fortune happens,  I  promise  you  I  '11  take  it  myself  and  give 
it  into  his  own  hands  if  I  have  to  wait  twenty-four  hours  in 
the  antechamber." 

"  Then  it  will  be  all  right,  citoyenne  Teutch.  Kiss  me, 
and  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep  ;  I  '11  try  to  myself." 


CHABLES   IS   ARRESTED.  81 

Madame  Teutch  kissed  him  and  walked  off  muttering,  — 

"  God's  truth  !  there  are  no  children  in  these  days  ! 
Here's  one  who  insults  citizen  ïétrell,  and  another  who 
asks  to  be  taken  before  citizen  Saint- Just  !  " 

Madame  Teutch  closed  the  door;  Charles  blew  out  his 
candle  and  went  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  about  eight  o'clock  he  was  bus}" 
arranging  his  papers,  which  were  somewhat  in  disorder 
after  the  visitation  of  the  night  before,  when  Madame 
Teutch  burst  into  the  room  crying  out,  — 

"  Here  they  are  !  here  they  are  !  " 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Charles. 

"  The  police  who  are  after  you,  poor  child  !  " 

Charles  hastily  hid  in  his  bosom,  between  his  shirt  and 
his  skin,  his  father's  second  letter,  the  one  addressed  to 
Pichegru  ;  he  was  afraid  it  would  be  taken  from  him  and 
not  returned. 

The  police  entered  the  room  and  informed  the  lad  of 
their  purpose.  He  declared  himself  willing  to  go  with 
them.  As  he  passed  citoyenne  Teutch,  he  gave  her  a  look 
which  meant,  "  Don't  forget  ;  "  to  which  she  replied  with  a 
motion  of  her  head  meaning,  "  Don't  fear." 

The  police  carried  Charles  away  on  foot.  As  they  passed 
the  house  of  Euloge  Schneider,  the  boy  had  a  momentary 
idea  of  asking  to  be  taken  before  the  man  to  whom  he  had 
been  consigned,  and  with  whom  he  had  dined  the  day 
before.  But  before  that  house  stood  the  guillotine,  by  the 
guillotine  a  waiting  coach,  on  the  steps  Maître  Nicolas. 
He  remembered  the  whole  scene  of  the  dinner,  and  he 
shook  his  head,  muttering  to  himself,  — 

"  Poor  Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt,  God  help  her  !  " 

The  lad  was  one  of  those  who  still  believed  in  God  ;  it  is 
true  he  was  only  a  child. 

VOL.   I. — 6 


82  '  THE   FIKST   KEPUBLIC. 

X. 

Schneider's  trip. 

Charles  and  the  men  who  were  conducting  him  were 
hardly  out  of  sight  before  the  door  of  Euloge  Schneider's 
house  was  opened,  and  the  Commissioner  of  the  Republic 
appeared  on  the  threshold,  cast  a  tender  glance  at  the 
instrument  of  death,  which  was  neatly  taken  apart  and 
lying  on  its  own  cart  ;  then  he  nodded  in  a  friendly  manner 
to  Maître  Nicolas  and  got  into  the  empty  coach.  There 
he  turned  round  and  said  to  Maître  Nicolas,  — 

"  How  are  you  going  ?  " 

Nicolas  showed  him  a  cabriolet  which  was  then  driving 
up.  In  it  were  two  men,  his  assistants  ;  the  cabriolet  was 
his  own.  The  party  was  complete,  —  prosecutor,  guillotine, 
and  executioner. 

They  started  through  the  streets  which  led  to  the  gate  of 
Kehl,  where  the  road  to  Plobsheim  begins.  Wherever  the 
cortège  passed,  terror  passed  too,  with  icy  wings.  People 
on  their  doorsteps  went  back  into  their  houses  ;  those  who 
were  on  the  street  flattened  themselves  against  the  walls  or 
tried  to  escape  down  the  byways.  A  few  fanatics  alone 
waved  their  hats  and  cried  out,  "  Vive  la  guillotine  !  "  in 
other  words,  "  Long  live  Death  !  "  but,  for  the  honor  of 
humanity,  let  us  say  that  they  were  few. 

Schneider's  usual  escort  —  namely,  eight  Huzzars  of 
Death  —  attended  him.  In  each  village  through  which  he 
passed  the  Commissioner  halted,  spreading  terror  around 
him.  As  soon  as  the  lugubrious  procession  stopped,  he 
announced  by  criers  that  he  was  ready  to  listen  to  com- 
plaints and  denunciations.  He  heard  them,  questioned  the 
trembling  mayors  and  municipal  councils,  ordered  arrests, 
and  went  his  way,  leaving  sadness  and  desolation  behind 


SCHNEIDER'S   TRIP.  83 

Mm,  as  though  the  curse  of  yellow  fever  or  the  plague  had 
come  that  way. 

The  village  of  Eschau  stands  at  some  distance  to  the 
right  of  the  main  road.  It  hoped,  therefore,  that  it  might 
be  spared  this  horrible  infliction.  The  hope  was  vain. 
Schneider  plunged  into  a  cross-road  much  cut  up  by  rains. 
His  own  coach  and  the  executioner's  cabriolet  got  through 
safely,  thanks  to  their  lightness  ;  but  the  cart  which  bore  the 
red  machine  remained  stuck  in  the  mire.  Schneider  sent  on 
four  of  the  Death  huzzars  to  fetch  men  and  horses.  There 
was  some  delay  in  obeying  his  mandate;  enthusiasm  for  such 
work  was  not  warm.  Schneider  was  furious  ;  he  threatened 
to  stay  permanently  at  Eschau  and  guillotine  the  whole  vil- 
lage ;  and  he  would  have  done  it  if  the  delay  had  suited 
him,  such  was  the  supreme  omnipotence  of  these  terrible 
dictators.  This  explains  the  massacres  of  Collot-d'Herbois 
at  Lyon,  and  of  Carrier  at  Nantes.  The  frenzy  of  blood 
mounted  to  their  brains,  as  it  did,  eighteen  hundred  years 
earlier,  to  those  of  Nero,  Com  modus,  and  Domitian. 

At  last,  by  force  of  men  and  horses,  the  cart  was  pulled 
from  the  mud-hole  and  the  procession  entered  the  village. 
The  mayor,  the  assistant  mayor,  and  the  council  were  in 
waiting  at  the  end  of  the  main  street  to  address  Schneider. 
The  latter  surrounded  them  with  his  Death  huzzars  and 
would  not  listen  to  a  word  they  had  to  say. 

It  was  market-day.  He  stopped  in  the  market-place,  and 
set  up  the  scaffold  before  the  terrified  eyes  of  the  popula- 
tion. Then  he  ordered  that  the  mayor  should  be  bound  to 
one  of  the  arms  of  the  guillotine,  and  the  assistant  mayor 
to  the  other,  and  he  placed  the  whole  municipal  council  on 
the  platform  of  the  machine.  This  sort  of  pillory  was  an 
invention  of  his  for  all  those  who  had  not,  as  he  thought, 
deserved  actual  death. 

It  was  now  mid-day,  —  the  dinner  hour.  He  entered  an 
inn  directly  opposite  to  the  scaffold,  had  his  table  set  on 
the  balcony,  and  ordered  his  meal  to  be  served,  four  of  the 
Death  huzzars  standing  guard  near  him.     At  dessert  he 


?84:  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

rose,  lifted  his  glass  high  above  his  head,  and  cried  out  : 
"  Long  live  the  Kepublic,  and  death  to  aristocrats."  When 
the  spectators  had  repeated  the  cry,  even  those  on  the  scaf- 
fold who  were  looking  at  him  in  terror,  not  knowing  what 
fate  he  would  ordain  for  them,  he  said  :  — 

"  Enough  !     I  pardon  you," 

Then  he  ordered  the  guard  to  unbind  the  mayor  and  his 
assistant,  and  told  the  municipal  council  to  come  down  from 
the  scaffold,  commanding  them  to  set  an  example  of  equality 
and  fraternity  by  helping  the  executioner  and  his  assistants 
in  taking  down  the  guillotine  and  replacing  it  on  its  cart. 
Then  he  obliged  the  whole  municipality  to  escort  him  in 
triumph  through  the  village. 

Plobsheim  was  reached  about  three  in  the  afternoon.  At 
the  first  house  he  came  to  Schneider  asked  where  the  Comte 
de  Brumpt  lived.  The  house  was  pointed  out  to  him.  It 
was  in  the  rue  du  Rhin,  the  handsomest  and  widest  street  in 
the  town.  When  the  procession  came  in  front  of  the  house, 
Schneider  ordered  the  guillotine  to  be  set  up  ;  then  he  left 
four  huzzars  to  guard  the  scaffold  and  took  the  four  others 
with  him. 

He  went  to  the  hôtel  du  Bonnet  Phrygien  (formerly  that 
of  the  Croix  Blanche)  and  there  he  wrote  the  following 
note  :  — 

To  citizen  Brumpt,  »!  the  City  prison  :  i 

If  you  send  me  your  word  of  honor,  in  writing,  to  make  no  attempt 

to  es'^ape,  you  will  be  set  at  liberty. 

Only,  you  must  invite  me  to  dinner  to-morrow  at  mid-day,  because 

I  have  to  speak  with  you  on  important  matters. 

EuLOGE  Schneider. 

He  sent  the  missive  by  an  huzzar.  Ten  minutes  later, 
the  messenger  brought  back  the  answer  :  — 

I  give  my  word  to  citizen  Schneider  to  return  to  my  own  house, 
and  not  to  leave  it  without  his  permission. 

I  shall  have  much  pleasure  in  receiving  him  at  dinner  to-morrow, 
at  the  hour  he  indicates. 

Brumpt. 


AN    OFFER   OF   MARRIAGE.  So 

XI. 

AN    OFFER    OF    MARRIAGE. 

Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt  had  no  sooner  seen  the  horrible 
machine  which  was  standing  before  her  house  than  she 
ordered  the  window-shutters  on  that  side  to  be  closed. 
When,  therefore,  the  Comte  de  Brumpt,  issuing  from  the 
prison  with  no  other  keeper  than  his  word  of  honor,  came 
in  sight  of  his  house,  he  saw  it  closed  like  a  sepulchre,  and 
a  scaffold  in  front  of  it.  He  asked  himself  what  this  could 
mean,  and  whether  he  ought  to  go  farther. 

But  his  hesitation  lasted  only  for  a  moment.  Neither 
tomb  nor  scaffold  could  make  him  retreat;  he  went  straight 
to  the  front  door,  and  gave  his  usual  three  raps, — two 
almost  together,  the  third,   a  little  later. 

Clotilcle  had  retired  with  Madame  Gérard,  her  companion, 
to  a  bedroom  at  the  back  of  the  house  looking  on  the  garden. 
She  was  lying  back  on  the  cushions  of  a  sofa,  weeping,  —  so 
plain  seemed  to  her  this  answer  to  her  petition.  When  she 
heard  the  first  two  raps,  she  gave  a  cry  ;  at  the  third,  she 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  My  God  !"  she  cried. 

Madame  Gérard  turned  pale. 

"  If  the  count  were  not  in  prison,"  she  said,  "  one  might 
swear  it  was  he." 

Clotilde  rushed  to  the  stairs. 

"It  is  his  step  !  "  she  murmured. 

A  voice  asked  :  — 

"  Clotilde  !  where  are  you  ?  " 

"Father!  father!"  cried  the  girl,  darting  down  the 
stairs. 

The  count  was  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  and  received 
her  in  his  arms. 


86  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

"  My  daughter,  my  child  !  "  he  stammered,  "  what  is  the 
meaning  of  all  this  ?" 

"I  don't  know  myself." 

"  But  that  scaffold  before  the  door  ?  these  windows,  why 
are  they  closed  ?  " 

"  Schneider  put  up  the  scaffold  ;  it  was  I  who  closed  the 
windows,  that  I  might  not  see  you  die." 

"  But  Schneider  has  just  released  me  from  prison  on 
parole,  and  has  asked  himself  to  dinner  for  to-morrow." 

"Father,"  said  Clotilde,  "perhaps  I  have  done  wrong,  but 
if  so,  the  blame  is  on  my  love  for  you.  When  I  saw  you 
arrested,  I  went  to  Strasbourg  and  implored  your  pardon." 

"  From  Schneider  ?  " 

"  From  Schneider." 

"  Poor  girl  !     What  price  did  he  ask  for  it  ?  " 

"  Father,  the  price  is  still  to  be  agreed  upon.  To-morrow 
he  will  tell  us  his  conditions." 

"  Then  we  must  wait." 

Clotilde  took  her  prayer-book,  left  the  house,  and  went 
and  shut  herself  into  a  little  church,  so  humble  that  no  one 
had  yet  thought  of  dispossessing  God  of  it.  There  she 
prayed  till  evening.  The  guillotine  remained  all  night 
before  the  house. 

The  next  day,  at  twelve  o'clock,  Schneider  presented  him- 
self. In  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  season,  the  house  was 
filled  with  flowers  ;  it  would  have  seemed  decked  for  a  gala, 
if  Clotilde's  mourning  garments  had  not  protested  against 
joy,  as  the  snow  in  the  streets  protested  against  the  spring- 
time. 

Schneider  was  received  by  the  count  and  his  daughter. 

He  had  not  taken  his  name  of  Euloge  for  nothing.  At 
the  end  of  ten  minutes  Clotilde  was  asking  herself  if  this 
could  be  the  same  man  who  had  treated  her  so  brutally  in 
Strasbourg.  The  count,  reassured,  left  the  room  to  give 
some  orders.  Schneider  offered  his  arm  to  the  young  girl, 
and  led  her  to  a  front  window,  the  shutters  of  which  he 
opened. 


AN   OFFER   OF   MARRIAGE.  87: 

The  guillotine  stood  in  front  of  that  window  decked  with 
flowers  and  ribbons. 

"  Choose,"  he  said,  "  between  a  scaffold  and  an  altar." 

"  What  can  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Clotilde,  shuddering. 

"  To-morrow  you  will  be  my  wife,  or,  to-morrow  the  count 
will  die." 

Clotilde  turned  as  white  as  the  handkerchief  she  held  in 
her  hand. 

"  My  father  would  rather  die,"  she  said. 

"  For  that  reason,"  he  replied,  "  I  wish  you  to  inform 
him  of  my  desire." 

"You  are  right,"  she  said;  "it  is  the  only  way." 

Schneider  closed  the  window,  and  led  her  back  to  her 
place.  Clotilde  drew  a  flask  of  salts  from  her  pocket  and 
inhaled  the  fumes.  By  a  supreme  effort  of  will,  the  expres- 
sion of  her  face,  though  sad,  regained  its  calmness,  and  the 
color,  which  seemed  gone  forever,  returned  to  her  cheeks. 
It  was  evident  she  had  taken  a  resolution. 

The  count  returned.  A  servant  followed  him,  and 
announced  dinner.  Clotilde  rose,  took  Schneider's  arm 
before  he  offered  it,  and  led  him  to  the  dining-room. 

A  splendid  dinner  was  served  ;  messengers  had  been  sent 
during  the  night  to  Strasbourg  for  the  best  fish  and  game 
that  could  be  had.  The  count,  almost  reassured,  did  the 
honors  of  his  table  to  the  Commissioner  of  the  Republic 
with  all  the  courtesy  of  a  great  seigneur.  The  best  wines 
of  Hungary,  Germany,  and  the  Rhine,  were  served.  The 
poor  girl  alone  ate  little,  putting  only  water  to  her  lips. 

But  toward  the  end  of  dinner  she  held  out  her  glass  to 
the  count  who,  much  surprised,  filled  it  with  Tokay.  Then 
she  rose,  and  lifting  her  glass,  said  :  — 

"  To  Euloge  Schneider,  the  generous  man  to  whom  I  owe 
my  father's  life  ;  happy  and  proud  will  be  the  woman 
whom  he  chooses  for  a  wife." 

"Beautiful  Clotilde,"  cried  Schneider,  surprised  and 
delighted,  "  do  you  need  to  be  told  that  I  love  you  ?  " 

Clotilde  touched  her  glass  very  slowly  and  gently  to 


88  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Schneider's  ;  then  she  went  up  to  her  father,  and  kneeling 
beside  him  said,  to  his  great  astonishment  :  — 

"Father,  I  entreat  you  to  give  me  as  a  husband  the 
generous  man  to  whom  I  owe  your  life  ;  I  call  Heaven  to 
witness  I  will  not  rise  until  you  grant  my  prayer." 

The  count  looked  alternately  at  Schneider,  whose  face 
was  beaming  with  joy,  and  at  Clotilde  on  whose  forehead  was 
the  shining  halo  of  martyrdom.  He  understood  that  some- 
thing was  happening  at  that  moment  so  great  and  so 
sublime  that  he  must  not  interfere  with  it. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  said,  "  you  are  mistress  of  your  hand 
and  fortune  ;  do  as  you  like  ;  what  you  do  will  be  right." 

Clotilde  rose  and  held  out  her  hand  to  Schneider.  The 
man  seized  it  and  bent  over  it,  while  Clotilde  with  her 
head  thrown  upward  seemed  to  ask  of  God,  as  though  in 
wonder,  how  he  could  suffer  such  deeds  to  be  done  beneath 
His  eye.  But,  when  Schneider  raised  his  head,  the  young 
girl's  face  had  resumed  its  serenity  broken  for  an  instant 
by  that  appeal  to  God,  which  had  no  answer.  Then,  as 
Schneider  pressed  her  to  say  on  what  day  she  would  be  his, 
she  smiled,  and  took  both  his  hands. 

"  Listen,  Schneider,"  she  said  ;  "I  ask  of  your  tenderness 
one  of  those  favors  a  man  never  refuses  to  his  betrothed. 
Some  pride  is  mingled  in  my  joy.  It  is  not  at  Plobsheini, 
a  poor  little  village  of  Alsace,  that  the  greatest  of  our 
citizens  should  give  his  name  to  the  woman  he  loves  and 
chooses.  I  want  the  world  to  see  that  I  am  Schneider's 
wife  and  not  his  concubine.  There  is  no  town  to  which  you 
have  gone  without  being  followed  by  a  mistress  ;  I  might 
be  mistaken  for  one.  Strasbourg  is  but  fifteen  miles  from 
here.  I  wish,  also,  to  procure  a  wedding-dress  suitable  for 
such  a  marriage.  To-morrow,  at  whatever  hour  you  like, 
we  will  start,  alone  together,  or  accompanied,  and  I  will 
give  you  my  hand  in  presence  of  the  citizens,  the  generals, 
and  the  representatives."  ^ 

1  I  have  not  changed  one  word  of  this  speech  ;  I  give  it  as  I  take  it 
from  Charles  Nodier's  "  Souvenirs  de  la  Revolution." 


AN   OFFER   OF   MARRIAGE.  89 

"  I  am  willing,"  said  Schneider,  "  I  am  ready  to  do  all 
you  wish  —  but  on  one  condition." 

"What  is  that?" 

"That  we  start  to-day,  and  not  to-morrow." 

"  Impossible  !  "  she  said,  turning  pale.  "  The  gates  of 
Strasbourg  close  at  three  o'clock,  and  it  is  now  half-past 
one." 

"  They  shall  close  at  four." 

Then,  calling  to  two  huzzars  (fearing  if  he  sent  one  that 
some  accident  might  hinder  him),  — 

"  To  Strasbourg  at  full  speed,"  he  cried,  "  and  see  that 
the  gate  of  Kehl  is  not  closed  till  four  o'clock.  Wait  at 
the  gate  and  make  sure  that  my  order  is  obeyed." 

"  I  see  that  I  must  do  as  you  wish,"  said  Clotilde,  letting 
her  hand  fall  into  that  of  Schneider.  "  Ah  !  my  dear 
father,  I  do  believe  that  I  shall  be  a  very  happy  woman." 


90  THE    FIKST    KEPUBLIC: 


xn. 

SAINT-JUST. 

The  previous  night  had  passed,  as  we  have  seen,  without 
any  news  from  Tetrell  ;  the  day  likewise.  At  five  in  the 
afternoon,  receiving  no  information  of  any  kind,  Eugène 
and  Augereau  determined  to  go  to  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne. 
There,  indeed,  they  found  news. 

Madame  Teutch,  in  despair,  related  how  her  poor  little 
Charles  had  been  arrested  at  eight  in  the  morning  and 
taken  to  prison.  All  day  she  had  waited  at  Saint-Just's 
house  to  speak  to  him,  but  it  was  not  until  five  in  the 
afternoon  that  she  had  been  able  to  do  so.  She  had  given 
him  Charles's  note.  "  Very  good,"  Saint-Just  had  said, 
*'if  what  you  tell  me  is  true,  he  will  be  set  at  liberty 
to-morrow."  Madame  Teutch  had  returned  home  with 
some  hope  in  her  heart.  The  citizen  Saint-Just  had  not 
seemed  to  her  as  ferocious  as  they  said  he  was. 

Charles,  though  sure  of  his  innocence,  not  having  as  a 
schoolboy  had  any  connection  with  political  matters,  was 
nevertheless  impatient  as  the  day  passed  and  he  heard  no 
news  ;  this  impatience  changed  into  anxiety  when  the 
morning  of  the  next  day  went  by  and  he  still  was  not 
summoned  before  the  representative  of  the  people.  This 
was  not,  as  it  happened,  the  fault  of  Saint-Just,  one  of  the 
most  scrupulous  of  men  in  keeping  promises.  A  grand 
circuit  had  been  planned  for  that  morning  at  daybreak 
through  all  the  "French  region  that  surrounded  Strasbourg, 
to  obtain  evidence  that  Saint-Just's  orders  were  being  strictly 
obeyed.  He  did  not  return  to  the  Hôtel  de  Ville  until  au 
hour  after  mid-day,  and  then,  remembering  his  promise  to 
!Madame  Teutch,  he  sent  an  order  to  the  prison  for  little 
Charles. 


Portrait  of  St.  Just. 


SAINT-JUST.  91 

Saint-Just  had  got  wet  from  head  to  foot  during  his 
excursion,  and  when  the  lad  entered  his  study  he  had 
nearly  finished  dressing  and  was  tying  his  cravat.  His 
cravat,  as  every  one  knows,  was  the  essential  feature  of 
Saint-Just's  toilet.  It  was  a  scaffolding  of  muslin,  from 
which  issued  a  rather  handsome  head,  and  it  seemed  to  be 
specially  devised  to  conceal  the  immense  development  of 
jaw  which  is  observable  in  beasts  of  prey  and  conquerors. 
The  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  face  was  the  eyes, 
large,  limpid,  fixed,  and  keenly  interrogative,  with  over- 
shadowing brows,  drawn,  not  in  a  curve  but  in  a  straight 
line,  meeting  above  the  nose  each  time  that  he  frowned 
under  the  impulsion  of  an  impatient  feeling  or  some  mental 
preoccupation. 

His  complexion  was  pale  and  had  a  grayish  tinge,  like 
that  of  many  other  of  the  laborious  toilers  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, who,  with  a  presentiment  of  premature  death,  added 
nights  to  days  to  gain  time  to  achieve  the  terrible  work 
which  the  magician,  whom  we  call  Providence  and  who  bears 
in  his  keeping  the  grandeur  of  nations,  had  entrusted  to 
them.  His  lips  were  soft  and  fleshy,  those  of  the  sensual 
man  who  had  begun  his  career  in  literature  by  an  obscene 
book,  but  who,  with  a  powerful  effort  of  self-control,  ended 
by  conquering  his  temperament  and  by  adopting,  as  regards 
women,  the  life  of  an  anchorite.  While  he  stood  there 
arranging  the  folds  of  his  cravat,  and  constantly  tossing 
aside  the  silky  locks  of  his  magnificent  hair,  he  dictated  to 
a  secretary  in  a  steady  flow,  orders,  warrants,  laws,  decrees, 
sentences,  which  were  presently  to  be  posted,  in  French 
and  German,  on  the  walls  of  the  most  frequented  streets 
and  squares  in  Strasbourg,  and  from  which  there  was  no 
appeal.  In  fact,  such  was  the  sovereign,  absolute,  auto- 
cratic power  of  the  representatives  of  the  people  when  on 
a  "  mission  "  to  the  armies  that  they  owed  no  more  account 
of  the  heads  they  took  off  than  the  mowers  of  a  field  of 
wheat.  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  points  about  these 
decrees  and  proscriptions  dictated  by  Saint-Just  were  the 


^2  THE   FIBST  BEPUBLIC. 

coiicisene^s  of  their  style,  and  the  curt,  sonorous,  vibrant 
voice  in  which  they  were  spoken.  The  first  speech  he  made 
in  the  Convention  was  a  demand  for  the  arraignment  of  the 
kins:  :  and  at  the  first  words  of  his  cold,  bitter  speech, 
cutting  as  steel,  there  was  not  a  listener  present  who  did 
not  feel,  with  a  strange  and  shuddering  sensation,  that  the 
king  was  lost. 

The  cravat  tied.  Saint-Just  wheeled  suddenly  round  to 
take  his  coat,  and  then  saw  Charles,  who  was  waiting  for 
him.  His  eyes  rested  on  the  lad.  visibly  calling  on  his 
memory  to  enlighten  him  ;  then,  stretching  his  hand  toward 
the  fireplace  he  said  :  — 

'•  Ah  !  is  it  you  they  arrested  yesterday  morning,  and 
who  sent  me  a  letter  by  the  landlady  of  the  inn  where  you 
lodge?  " 

'•  Yes,  citizen,"  replied  Charles,  "  it  is  I." 

"  The  men  who  arrested  you  allowed  you  to  write  to  me. 
did  they  ?  "' 

"Xo,  citizen,  I  wrote  beforehand."' 

"How  was  that?'" 

"  I  heard  I  was  to  be  arrested." 

''  And  you  did  not  hide  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  ?  I  was  innocent,  and  they  say  you  are 
just.'" 

Saint-Just  looked  at  the  boy  for  a  moment  in  silence  : 
he  himself  seemed  very  young  as  he  stood  there  ia  his 
shirt  of  the  whitest  and  finest  linen  with  full  sleeves,  a 
white  waistcoat  with  broad  lapels,  and  his  artistically  tied 
cravat. 

"  Have  your  parents  emigrated  ?  ""  he  asked. 

*'  Xo,  citizen,  my  parents  are  not  aristocrats." 

"  What  are  they  ?""" 

"My  father  is  the  chief-justice  of  the  court  at  Besançon  ; 
my  tmcle  is  major  of  a  regiment.'" 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

•'•  Xearly  thirteen." 

"  Come  here." 


SADfT-JUST.  93 

The  lad  obeyed. 

"  Upon  my  word,"'  said  Saint-Just,  "  he  looks  like  a  little 
girl.  But  you  must  have  done  something  to  make  them 
arrest  you  ?  " 

"Two  of  my  compatriots,  citizens  Dumont  and  Ballu, 
came  to  Strasbourg  to  defend  the  adjutant-general  Perrin. 
I  knew  they  were  to  be  arrested  one  night  or  the  next  day, 
and  I  warned  them  by  a  little  note  ;  that  little  note  they 
left  behind  them,  and  my  writing  was  recognized.  I 
thought  I  had  done  right.  I  apf)eal  to  your  heart,  citizen 
Saint-Just.-' 

Saint-Just  laid  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  white  and  deli- 
cately cared  for  as  a  woman's,  on  the  lad's  shoulder. 

"  You  are  still  a  child,"  he  said,  '•  so  I  shall  only  tell  you 
this  ;  ïhere  is  a  sentiment  more  sacred  than  compatn- 
otism,  and  that  is  patriotism  ;  before  being  citizens  of  the 
same  town,  we  are  sons  of  the  same  country.  The  day 
will  come  when  reason  will  have  made  great  strides,  when 
humanity  will  stand  before  country,  when  all  men  will  be 
brothers,  when  the  nations  will  be  sisters,  when  there 
will  be  no  enemies  but  tyrants.  You  yielded  to  an  honor- 
able feeling,  the  love  of  your  neighbor  as  thç  Gospel 
ordains  ;  but  in  so  yielding,  you  forget  a  higher  sentiment, 
more  sacred,  more  sublime, — devotion  to  your  country,  which 
pre<;edes  all  else.  If  those  men  were  enemies  of  their 
country,  if  they  had  transgressed  the  law,  you  ought  not 
to  have  put  yourself  between  them  and  the  sword  of  jiistice. 
I  am  not  of  those  who  have  the  right  to  preach  example, 
being  one  of  the  very  humblest  servants  of  liberty.  I  serve 
her  according  to  my  means,  I  will  make  her  triumph  to  the 
extent  of  my  powers,  or  I  will  die  for  her  :  that  is  all  my 
ambition.  Why  am  I  to-day  so  calm  and  so  proud  of  my- 
self ?  Because  I  have  this  day  with  the  very  blood  of  my 
heart,  given  proof  of  my  respect  for  the  laws  I  have  myself 
decreed.'"' 

He  paused  for  a  moment  to  observe  whether  the  boy 
were  listening  to  him  attentively.     Charles  was  not  losing 


94  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

a  word  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  garnering  one  by  one  the 
words  that  fell  from  those  powerful  lips,  which  he  has 
since  transmitted  to  posterity. 

Saint-Just  resumed  :  — 

"  After  the  shameful  panic  at  Eisemberg,  I  issued  a 
decree  that  every  soldier,  every  non-commissioned  and  com- 
missioned officer,  should  sleep  in  his  clothes.  Well,  when  we 
;nade  our  rounds  this  morning,  I  rejoiced  in  the  opportu- 
nity of  seeing  a  dear  friend  of  my  childhood,  like  myself 
from  the  town  of  Blerancourt  in  the  department  of  the 
Aisne,  like  me  a  pupil  in  the  college  at  Soissons.  I  went 
to  the  village  where  I  knew  that  he,  Prosper  Lenormand, 
was  stationed  and  I  asked  for  the  house  where  he  lodged. 
It  was  shown  to  me  ;  I  hurried  there  ;  his  room  was  on 
the  first  floor.  Great  as  my  power  is  over  myself,  my 
heart  beat  with  pleasure  as  I  went  up  those  stairs  at  the 
thought  of  meeting  my  friend  after  five  long  years  of  sepa- 
ration. I  entered  the  first  room,  and  called  :  *  Prosper  ! 
Prosper  !  where  are  you  ?  It  is  I,  your  schoolmate,  Saint- 
Just.'  No  sooner  had  I  called  than  the  door  opened  and  a 
young  man  in  his  shirt  flung  himself  into  my  arms,  crying 
out  ;  '  Saint-Just  !  my  dear  Saint- Just  !  '  I  pressed  him 
to  my  heart  and  wept,  for  that  heart  had  just  received  a 
frightful  blow.  The  friend  of  my  youth,  he  whom  I  longed 
to  see  again,  whom  I  had  made  such  haste  to  meet,  had 
violated  the  law  I  had  issued  three  days  earlier  ;  he  must 
suffer  death  !  Then  ray  heart  bowed  down  before  the 
might  of  my  will,  and,  turning  to  the  witnesses  of  the 
scene,  I  said  in  a  calm  voice  ;  '  Heaven  be  doubly  praised, 
my  dear  Prosper,  in  that  I  have  seen  you  again,  and  am 
enabled  to  give,  in  the  person  of  a  man  who  is  so  dear  to 
me,  a  memorable  lesson  in  discipline,  and  a  great  example 
of  justice  by  immolating  you  to  the  public  weal.'  Turn- 
ing to  those  who  accompanied  me,  I  said:  'Do  your  duty.' 
I  kissed  Prosper  for  the  last  time,  and  then,  at  a  sign  from 
me,  they  dragged  him  from  the  house." 

"Why?"  asked  Charles. 


SAINT-JUST.  95 

"To  shoot  him.  Was  he  not  forbidden  under  pain  of 
death  to  undress  himself  ?  " 

"  But  you  pardoned  him  ?  "  asked  Charles,  in  tears. 

"  Ten  minutes  later  he  was  dead." 

Charles  gave  a  cry  of  horror. 

"  Your  heart  is  weak,  poor  child  ;  read  Plutarch  and  you 
will  grow  a  man —  But  tell  me,  what  are  you  doing  in 
Strasbourg  ?  " 

"  Studying,  citizen,"  replied  the  boy.  "I  came  here  only 
three  days  ago." 

"  What  are  you  studying  in  Strasbourg  ?  " 

"Greek." 

"I  think  it  would  be  more  logical  to  study  German; 
besides,  what  good  is  Greek  ?  —  the  Lacedaemonians  did  not 
write  it."  Then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  during  which 
he  looked  at  the  boy  with  curiosity,  he  added  :  "  What 
learned  man  is  teaching  Greek  in  Strasbourg  ?" 

"  Euloge  Schneider." 

"  Euloge  Schneider  !  does  he  know  Greek  ?  " 

"  He  is  one  of  the  chief  hellenists  in  Germany  ;  he  trans- 
lated Anacreon." 

"  The  monk  of  Cologne  !  "  cried  Saint-Just.  "  Euloge 
Schneider  anacreontic  !  Well,  well  !  go  learn  your  Greek 
from  Euloge  Schneider,  my  boy  —  but,"  he  added,  in  a  ring- 
ing voice,  "if  I  thought  you  would  learn  other  things,  I 
would  strangle  you  here  and  now." 

Stunned  by  this  outburst,  the  boy  stood  motionless  and 
silent,  leaning  against  the  wall  as  if  he  were  a  figure  in  the 
tapestry. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Saint-Just,  getting  more  and  more 
excited,  "  Greeks  like  him  are  those  who  are  destrojdng  the 
sacred  cause  of  the  Revolution  ;  it  is  such  as  they  who 
arrest  children  of  thirteen,  and  expect  the  Mountain  to 
applaud  them  for  it.  Ha  !  I  swear  by  the  Republic  that 
I  will  soon  do  justice  on  those  men  who  daily  put  our 
priceless  liberties  in  danger.  A  terrible  and  exemplary 
justice  is  needed,  and  I  will  do  it.     They  dare  to  reproach 


96  THE   FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

me  for  not  giving  them  headless  carcasses  enough  to  satisfy 
them  !  The  Propaganda  wants  blood  —  well,  it  shall  have 
it  !  To  begin  with,  I  will  drench  it  with  the  blood  of  its 
leaders.  Let  me  have  one  occasion,  one  pretext,  with  jus- 
tice on  my  side,  and  they  shall  see  !  " 

Saint- Just  had  broken  from  his  cold  tranquillity  ;  he  was 
terrible,  he  was  menacing;  his  eyebrows  met,  his  nostrils 
swelled  like  those  of  a  lion  pursuing  its  prey  ;  his  skin  was 
the  color  of  ashes  ;  he  looked  about  him  as  if  searching  for 
something,  man  or  thing,  to  destroy. 

At  that  moment,  a  messenger  who  had  just  dismounted, 
as  was  seen  by  the  mud  which  bespattered  him,  rushed 
into  the  room,  and  going  up  to  Saint-Just,  said  something  in 
his  ear.  As  he  listened,  there  came  upon  that  savage  face  an 
expression  of  joy,  mingled  with  doubt.  It  seemed  as  though 
the  news  the  horseman  brought  was  so  pleasant  to  him  that 
he  dared  not  wholly  trust  it. 


EULOGE   SCHNEIDER'S   WEDDING.  97 


XIII. 
EULOGE  Schneider's  wedding. 

Saint-Just  looked  the  man  over  from  head  to  foot,  as  if  he 
feared  he  had  to  do  with  a  madmau. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  yourself  ?  "  he  asked. 

"From  your  colleague  Lebas." 

"To  tell  me  —  ?" 

The  man  again  lowered  his  voice  so  that  Charles  could 
not  hear  what  he  said.  As  for  the  secretary,  he  had  pre- 
viously left  the  room  carrying  Saint-Just's  decrees  to  the 
printer. 

"  Impossible  !  "  said  the  proconsul,  again  passing  from 
hope  to  doubt  ;  the  matter  seemed  to  him  so  incredible. 

"  It  is  really  so,"  replied  the  messenger. 

"But  he  would  never  dare,"  said  Saint-Just,  clenching 
his  teeth,  while  a  flash  of  hatred  gleamed  in  his  eyes. 

"  It  was  the  Death  huzzars  themselves  who  took  posses- 
sion of  the  gate,  and  prevented  its  being  closed." 

"Thegateof  Kehl?" 

"  The  gate  of  Kehl." 

"  The  very  one  before  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  one." 

"  In  spite  of  my  formal  order  ?  " 

"  In  spite  of  your  order." 

"  What  reason  did  the  huzzars  give  for  preventing  that 
gate  from  being  closed  at  three,  when  all  gates  are  ordered 
closed  at  that  hour  under  pain  of  death  ?  " 

"They  said  the  Commissioner  of  the  Republic  was  re- 
turning to  Strasbourg  thi-ough  that  gate  with  his  bride." 

"  The  bride  of  Euloge  Schneider  !  the  bride  of  the  monk 
of  Cologne  !  " 

VOL.   I. — 7 


98  THE    FIEST    KEPUBLIC. 

Saint-Just  looked  about  him,  evidently  seeking  Charles 
in  the  dusk  of  the  room  —  for  evening  was  coming  on. 

"  If  you  want  me,  citizen  Saint-Just,  I  am  here,"  said  the 
lad,  approaching  him. 

"  Yes,  come  here  ;  did  you  know  that  your  Greek  pro- 
fessor was  going  to  be  married  ?  " 

The  scene  with  Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt  came  back  to 
the  boy's  mind. 

"  I  know  something  ;  but  it  is  too  long  to  tell  you." 

"  No,  tell  it,"  said  Saint-Just,  laughing,  "  there  's  time 
enough." 

Charles  related  the  dinner  at  Schneider's  with  the  epi- 
sodes of  the  young  girl  and  the  executioner.  As  Saint- 
Just  listened,  his  head  remained  absolutely  quiescent,  while 
the  rest  of  his  body  was  in  lively  motion.  Suddenly  a 
great  noise  was  heard  in  one  of  the  streets  which  led  from 
the  Hôtel  de  Ville  to  the  gate  of  Kehl.  Saint- Just  no  doubt 
guessed  the  cause  of  the  uproar,  for  he  said,  addressing 
Charles  :  — 

"  If  you  wish  to  go,  my  boy,  you  are  free  ;  but  if  3^011 
would  like  to  see  a  great  act  of  justice  done,  you  can  stay." 

Curiosity  fastened  Charles  to  Saint-Just's  side  ;  he 
stayed. 

The  messenger  went  to  the  window  and  drew  aside  the 
curtain. 

"  Hey  !  "  said  he,  "  see  here  ;  here 's  the  proof  that  I  was 
right  ;  here  he  is  !  " 

"  Open  the  window,"  said  Saint-Just. 

The  messenger  obeyed;  the  window  opened  on  a  bal- 
cony projecting  above  the  street.  Saint- Just  went  out  upon 
it,  inviting  Charles  and  the  messenger  to  follow  him. 

The  clock  struck  ;  Saint-Just  turned  and  looked  at  it  ; 
it  was  four  o'clock.  The  cortege  was  just  entering  the 
square. 

Four  outriders,  dressed  in  the  national  colors,  preceded 
the  carriage,  which  was  di-awn  by  six  horses,  and  thrown 
wide  open  in  spite  of  the  threatening  weather.     Schneider 


EULOGE    SCHNEIDER'S   WEDDÙnG.  99 

and  his  betrothed,  who  was  richly  dressed  and  dazzling 
with  youth  and  beauty,  sat  within.  The  Commissioner's 
usual  escort,  his  black  horsemen,  his  Death  huzzars,  cara- 
coled about  the  carriage  with  naked  sabres,  pushing  back, 
in  the  name  of  equality  and  fraternity,  the  inquisitive  crowd 
which  pressed  too  closely  on  the  procession.  Immediately 
behind  the  carriage  came  a  low  cart  with  high  wheels, 
painted  red,  drawn  by  two  horses  decked  with  ribbons  of 
the  three  colors,  and  led  by  men  of  sinister  asj)ect,  wearing 
black  blouses  and  phrygian  caps  with  large  cockades,  who 
bantered  the  huzzars  with  gruesome  jests.  A  little  chaise 
brought  up  the  rear,  in  which  was  seated  a  small,  pale, 
serious-looking  man,  to  whom  the  people  pointed  with 
trembling  fingers,  uttering  two  words,  in  low  and  fright- 
ened voices  :  — 

"  Maître  Nicolas  !  " 

The  whole  procession  was  illuminated  by  a  double  row 
of  men  on  foot  bearing  torches. 

Schneider  was  coming  to  present  his  bride  to  Saint-Just, 
who,  on  his  side,  as  we  have  seen,  had  advanced  upon  the 
balcony  to  receive  him. 

Saint-Just,  calm,  rigid,  and  cold  as  a  statue  of  Justice, 
was  not  popular;  he  was  feared  and  respected.  So  that 
when  he  was  seen  on  the  balcony,  in  his  dress  as  represen- 
tative of  the  people,  with  his  plumed  hat,  his  tricolor  sash, 
and  at  his  side  the  sabre  he  knew  well  how  to  draw  when 
he  faced  the  enemy,  there  were  neither  cries  nor  bravos, 
only  a  cold  murmur  and  a  movement  of  retreat  among  the 
crowd,  which  left  an  open  space  below  the  balcony,  into 
which  the  carriage  with  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  the  cart 
containing  the  guillotine,  and  the  chaise  of  the  executioner, 
now  advanced. 

Saint-Just  made  a  sign  with  his  hand.  Every  one  present 
supposed  that  he  was  about  to  speak  first;  in  fact,  after 
that  imperative  gesture,  which  he  had  made  with  impres- 
sive dignity,  he  was  about  to  speak,  when,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  every  one,  the  young  girl,  with  a  rapid  movement. 


100  THE   FIE  ST   REPUBLIC. 

opened  the  carriage  door,  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  closed 
it  again  ;  then,  falling  on  her  knees  on  the  pavement,  she 
cried  out,  in  the  midst  of  the  solemn  hush  :  — 

"  Justice,  citizen  !  I  appeal  to  Saint-Just  and  to  the 
Convention." 

"  Against  whom  ?  '"  demanded  Saint-Just,  in  his  incisive, 
vibrant  voice. 

"Against  that  man,-  against  Euloge  Schneider;  against 
the  Commissioner  of  the  Republic  !  " 

"  Speak  !  what  has  he  done  ?  "  replied  Saint- Just  ;  "  Jus- 
tice listens." 

Then,  in  a  voice  of  emotion,  though  strong,  indignant, 
and  threatening,  the  young  girl  told  the  hideous  drama  of 
her  mother's  death,  her  father's  arrest,  the  scaffold  erected 
before  his  house,  the  alternative  offered  her,  —  calling  to  wit- 
ness, as  she  related  each  terrible  fact,  the  executioner,  his 
assistants,  the  Huzzars  of  Death,  and  at  last  even  Schneider 
himself.    As  each  man  was  called  upon,  each  answered  :  — 

"  Yes  ;  it  was  so  !  " 

Except  Schneider,  who  was  crouching  in  the  coach  like  a 
leopard  about  to  spring,  and  virtually  answered  yes  by  his 
silence.  Saint-Just,  gnawing  his  fist,  let  the  girl  say  all  ; 
then,  when  she  ha-l  finished,  he  replied  :  — 

"  Citoyenne  Clotilde  Brumpt,  you  have  asked  for  justice, 
and  you  shall  have  it.  But  what  would  you  have  done  if  I 
were  not  willing  to  grant  it  ?  " 

She  drew  a  dagger  from  her  breast. 

"  To-night,  in  bed,  I  would  have  stabbed  him  !  "  she  said. 
*'  Charlotte  Corday  has  taught  us  how  to  treat  Marats  ! 
And  now,"  she  added,  "  now  that  I  am  free  to  mourn 
my  mother  and  comfort  my  father,  I  ask  of  you  that  man's 
pardon." 

At  the  word  "  pardon  "  Saint-Just  quivered  as  if  a  snake 
had  stung  him. 

"  His  pardon  !  "  he  cried,  striking  the  railing  of  the  bal- 
cony with  his  closed  fist  ;  "  the  pardon  of  that  execrable 
wretch  I   the  pardon  of  the  monk  of  Cologne  1     You  jest. 


JIULOGE   SCHNEIDER'S   WEDDING.  101 

young  girl.  If  I  did  that,  Justice  would  spread  her  wings 
and  fly  from  France,  never  to  return.  His  pardon  !  "  Then, 
with  a  fearful  outburst,  in  a  voice  that  was  heard  to  an 
incredible  distance,  he  cried  :  — 

"  Away  with  him  !  —  to  the  guillotine  !  " 

The  pale,  thin,  serious  man  got  down  from  his  chaise, 
came  beneath  the  balcony,  took  off  his  hat,  and  bowed. 

"Am  I  to  cut  off  his  head,  citizen  Saint-Just  ?  "  he  asked 
humbly. 

"  Unhappily  I  have  no  right  to  order  it,"  said  Saint-Just  ; 
"if  I  had,  humanity  should  be  avenged  within  this  hour. 
No,  as  Commissioner  of  the  Republic,  his  life  is  in  the 
hands  of  the  Revolutionary  tribunal,  not  in  mine.  Give 
him  the  punishment  he  invented  himself.  Bind  him  to  the 
guillotine  !     Shame  here,  death  there  !  " 

And,  with  a  gesture  of  supreme  power,  he  extended  his 
arm  in  the  direction  of  Paris.  Then,  as  if  all  that  he  him- 
self had  to  do  with  this  drama  was  done,  he  pushed  Charles 
and  the  messenger  back  into  the  room,  followed  them, 
closed  the  window  behind  him,  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
boy's  shoulder. 

"Never  forget  what  you  have  just  seen,"  he  said;  "and 
if  any  one  ever  says  before  you  that  Saint-Just  is  not  a 
man  of  the  Revolution,  of  Liberty,  of  Justice,  answer  boldly 
that  it  is  not  true.  And  now  go  where  you  like  ;  you  are 
free." 

Charles,  in  a  transport  of  juvenile  admiration,  tried  to 
take  Saint-Just's  hand  and  kiss  it  ;  but  he  withdrew  it 
hastily,  and  stooping  down  he  kissed  the  boy's  forehead. 

Forty  years  later,  Charles,  in  his  manhood,  told  me,  as 
he  related  this  history  and  urged  me  to  "'  make  a  book  "  of 
it,  that  he  still  felt,  in  memory,  upon  his  brow  the  touch  of 
that  kiss  of  Saint-Just.  Oh,  dear  Charles  Nodier  !  each 
time  that  you  have  given  me  that  advice  I  have  followed 
it,  and  your  genius,  hovering  over  me,  has  brought  me 
success. 


102  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 


XIV. 


WISHES. 


As  Charles  left  the  Hôtel  de  Ville,  he  could  see  from 
the  portico  the  whole  scene  stretched  out  before  him. 
Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt,  hastening  no  doubt  to  put  her- 
self in  safety  and  reassure  her  father,  had  disappeared. 
Two  men  with  phrygian  caps,  and  black  blouses,  were 
setting  up  the  scaffold  with  a  readiness  which  showed  long 
practice  at  the  business.  Maître  Nicolas  held  Schneider, 
who  refused  to  leave  the  carriage,  by  the  arm  ;  seeing  which, 
two  of  the  Death  huzzars  went  to  the  other  side  of  the 
vehicle,  prodded  him  with  their  bayonets,  and  forced  him 
out. 

A  cold  rain  was  falling,  and  the  piercing  air  penetrated 
the  clothes  like  needles,  yet  Schneider  wiped  his  brow  with 
his  handkerchief,  for  the  sweat  was  pouring  from  it.  Half 
way  between  the  carriage  and  the  guillotine,  they  had  taken 
away,  first,  his  hat  on  account  of  the  tricolor  cockade,  next, 
his  coat  because  it  was  a  military  one  ;  cold  and  terror 
combined  seized  upon  the  wretched  creature,  and  his  teeth 
chattered  as  he  mounted  the  steps  of  the  scaffold.  The 
instant  that  he  was  seen  a  great  cry  rose  from  ten  thousand 
throats  throughout  the  square,  uttered  as  it  were  by  a  single 
voice  :  — 

"  To  the  knife  !  to  the  knife  !  " 

"  Good  God  !  "  muttered  Charles,  leaning  against  the  wall 
and  shuddering  with  horror,  but  kept  there  by  invincible 
curiosity,  "  will  they  kill  him  ?  will  they  kill  him  ?  " 

"  No,  don't  be  uneasy,"  said  a  voice  ;  "  this  time  he  '11  get 
nothing  more  than  a  good  fright,  though  it  would  be  just 
as  well  if  they  finished  him  up  at  once." 


WISHES.  103 

Charles  knew  the  voice,  and  turning  round  he  saw 
Sergeant  Augereau. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  cried  joyfully,  as  if  he  himself  had  escaped 
from  some  great  danger.  "  Ah  !  is  it  you,  my  good  friend  ? 
where 's  Eugène  ?  " 

"  As  safe  and  sound  as  you  are.  We  went  back  to  the 
hôtel  last  night,  where  we  heard  of  your  arrest.  I  went  to 
the  prison,  and  was  told  you  were  there.  I  went  again  at  one 
o'clock  to-day  ;  you  were  there  still.  At  three  o'clock  I 
heard  Saint-Just  had  sent  for  you  ;  so  then  I  determined 
to  wait  here  in  the  square  till  I  saw  you  come  out. 
I  was  certain  he  wouldn't  gobble  you  up,  the  devil  take 
him  !  Suddenly  I  saw  you  come  out  with  him  on  the 
balcony,  and  you  and  he  seemed  the  best  of  friends  ;  that 
made  me  easy.     And  here  you  are,  free  !  " 

"  As  air." 

"  iS"othing  to  keep  you  here  ?  " 

"I  wish  I'd  never  come." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  there.  It  is  a  very  good  thing 
to  have  made  a  friend  of  Saint-Just,  very  much  better  than 
to  be  friends  with  Schneider,  especially  as  for  the  time 
being  Saint-Just  is  the  stronger  of  the  two.  As  for 
Schneider,  you  have  n't  had  time  to  feel  any  liking  for  him, 
and  I  don't  suppose  you  '11  be  inconsolable  for  his  loss. 
What  has  happened  to-night  is  a  good  lesson  for  Tetrell, 
who,  by  the  bye,  has  n't  budged  ;  but  for  all  that,  we 
mustn't  give  him  time  to  take  his  revenge." 

At  this  moment  loud  cries  and  j'ells  resounded. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  what  is  it  now  ?  "  said  Charles,  hiding  his 
head  behind  the  sergeant's  arm. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Augereau,  rising  on  his  toes,  "  nothing  ; 
they  are  only  fastening  him  to  the  knife,  as  he  has  done 
with  others  —  it  is  his  turn  now." 

"  Terrible,  terrible  !  "  muttered  Charles. 

"  Terrible,  yes,  but  we  see  it  every  day,  and  worse  too. 
Say  good-bye  to  your  Greek  teacher,  for  you  '11  probably 
never   see   him  again,  inasmuch  as  when  he  gets  off  that 


104  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

pillory  they  '11  take  him  to  Paris,  where  I  don't  envy  him 
his  ascension.  Let 's  go  to  supper  ;  bless  my  soul,  boy, 
you  must  be  hungry." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it,"  said  Charles  ;  "  but  now  you 
remind  me,  I  must  own  my  breakfast  is  a  long  way  off." 

"  All  the  more  reason  for  going  as  fast  as  we  can  to  the 
hôtel  de  la  Lanterne." 

"  Come  on  then."  Charles  gave  a  last  look  at  the 
square.  "  Good-bye,  poor  friend  of  my  father,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  When  he  sent  me  here,  he  supposed  you  the  good 
and  learned  monk  he  used  to  know  ;  he  little  thought  you 
were  the  bloody  satyr  I  've  found  you,  or  that  the  spirit  of 
the  Lord  had  left  you.  Quos  vult  perdere  Jupiter  dementat. 
Come  on,  let 's  go." 

And  the  lad  began  to  drag  Pierre  Augereau  toward  the 
hôtel. 

Two  persons  were  there  awaiting  him  with  anxiety  : 
Madame  Teutch  and  Eugène.  Madame  Teutch,  using  her 
double  right  as  woman  and  landlady,  seized  upon  Charles, 
and  it  was  not  until  she  had  looked  him  well  over  to  be 
sure  it  was  he,  and  had  kissed  and  re-kissed  him,  to  make 
certain  it  was  not  his  shadow,  that  she  handed  him  over 
to  Eugène.  The  greeting  of  the  two  lads  was  less  demon- 
strative, but  quite  as  tender.  Nothing  binds  all  hearts  so 
swiftly  as  dangers  incurred  together,  and,  God  be  thanked, 
since  these  young  fellows  had  known  each  other  events 
had  not  been  wanting  to  bring  the  diapason  of  their  friend- 
ship to  that  of  the  friendships  of  antiquity.  It  was  all  the 
more  intense  at  the  present  moment  from  the  thought  that 
they  were  now  to  part.  It  would  have  been  imprudent  for 
Eugène,  who  had  almost  finished  the  work  he  came  to  do, 
to  stay  longer  in  Strasbourg,  under  the  weight  of  Tetrell's 
vengeance  ;  for  though  that  patriot  might  nurse  his  wrath  in 
secret  for  a  certain  time,  he  assuredly  would  not  forget  it. 

As  for  Charles,  his  stay  in  Strasbourg  was  without  an 
object,  inasmuch  as  Euloge  Schneider  could  no  longer  teach 
him,  —  that  being  the  only  purpose  for  which  his  father  had 


WISHES.  1G5 

sent  him.  Eugène  was  therefore  to  return  to  Paris,  where 
his  mother  and  sister  were  striving  to  procure  the  release 
of  his  father,  while  Charles,  utilizing  the  second  letter  his 
father  had  given  him,  was  to  go  to  Pichegru  and  make  his 
apprenticeship  at  soldiering,  as  he  could  not  make  it  with 
Schneider  in  the  dead  languages. 

It  was  arranged  that  the  two  lads  should  start  the  next 
morning  at  daybreak,  each  in  his  own  direction.  This 
determination  was  dreadful  to  good  Madame  Teutch,  who 
had  improvised  herself  a  nice  little  family,  and  loved  these 
boys,  she  declared,  as  though  they  were  her  own  ;  but  she 
was  much  too  sensible  a  woman  to  prevent,  or  even  to  delay, 
a  departure  which  she  herself  thought  not  only  necessary, 
but  urgent.  She  therefore  entered  into  all  their  plans,  on 
the  sole  condition  that  they  would  accept  from  her  the  last 
meal  they  took  in  her  house. 

Not  only  was  this  condition  accepted,  but  the  kind  woman, 
whom  the  two  lads  regarded,  if  not  as  a  mother,  at  least  as 
a  friend,  was  invited  to  do  the  honors  of  the  repast,  —  an 
invitation  which  gratified  her  so  much  that  she  was  not 
content  with  giving  the  chef  orders  for  a  most  excellent 
supper,  but  she  went  up  to  her  own  room  and  picked  out 
her  best  gown  in  which  to  appear. 

Now,  as  the  preparations  for  supper,  and  the  adorning  of 
Madame  Teutch,  necessitated  a  delay  of  half  an  hour,  it  was 
decided  that  this  delay  should  be  utilized  by  the  boys  in 
making  their  preparations  for  departure.  The  Paris  dili- 
gence in  which  Eugene's  seat  was  taken,  started  at  daybreak. 
Charles  meant  to  see  his  friend  off,  and  then  go  to  Auen- 
heim,  where  Pichegru's  headquarters  now  were,  —  Auen- 
heim  being  about  twenty-four  miles  from  Strasbourg.  It 
was  one  of  the  eight  or  ten  fortresses  which,  like  advanced 
sentinels,  watched  over  Strasbourg  and  its  environs. 

To  prepare  Charles  for  such  a  fatiguing  walk,  he  wanted 
a  good  night's  rest,  and  it  was  to  procure  this  that  Madame 
Teutch  asked  the  lads  to  arrange  their  papers  and  pack 
their  trunks  before  sitting  down  to  table. 


106  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

During  this  time,  Augereau  had  gone  to  his  quarters  to 
leave  word  that,  as  he  was  invited  to  a  supper,  he  did  not 
know  at  what  hour  he  should  return  to  barracks,  and  perhaps 
he  should  not  return  at  all.  Augereau,  having  been  a 
fencing-master,  had  always  had  more  liberty  than  the  other 
Volunteers  of  Paris,  who  themselves,  as  a  regiment,  had 
more  privileges  than  the  other  troops. 

The  two  lads  had  left  the  door  between  their  rooms  open, 
so  that  they  might  talk  to  each  other  while  they  packed 
their  things.  Each,  at  this  moment  of  parting,  thought  of 
the  future,  and  planned  it  as  he  wished. 

"As  for  me,"  said  Eugène,  putting  his  war  papers 
together,  "  my  road  is  traced  out.  I  shall  never  be  any- 
thing but  a  soldier  ;  I  hardly  know  Latin,  for  which  I  have 
a  pious  repugnance,  and  as  for  Greek  —  not  one  blessed 
word  of  it  !  On  the  other  hand,  I  can  ride  any  horse  that 
comes  to  hand,  and  hit  the  bull's-eye  at  twenty  paces  ; 
Augereau  will  tell  you  that  I  need  fear  no  one  with  sword 
and  sabre  ;  and  my  heart  beats,  and  the  blood  all  rushes 
into  my  face  at  the  sound  of  a  drum  or  a  bugle.  I  shall  be 
a  soldier  like  my  father,  —  perhaps  a  general  too,  who 
knows  ?     Oh  !  it 's  fine  to  be  a  general  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Charles,  "  but  just  see  what  it  leads  to  !  look 
at  your  father!  you  are  sure  of  his  innocence,  are  you 
not  ?  " 

"Of  course,  I'm  sure." 

"Well,  he  is  in  danger  of  exile,  and  even  death." 

"  Pooh  !  did  n't  Themistocles,  who  fought  in  the  battle  of 
Marathon,  and  won  that  of  Salamis,  die  in  exile  ?  Exile, 
when  it  is  n't  deserved,  makes  a  man  a  hero  ;  death,  when 
it  strikes  the  innocent,  makes  a  hero  a  demigod.  Would  n't 
you  like  to  be  Phocion,  at  the  risk  of  drinking  hemlock  ?  " 

"  Hemlock  for  hemlock,"  said  Charles,  "  I  'd  rather  drink 
that  of  Socrates  ;  he 's  my  hero." 

"  Ah  !  I  don't  deny  him  either.  He  began  by  being  a 
soldier;  he  saved  the  life  of  Alcibiades  at  Potium,  and  that 
of  Xenophon  at  Delium.     To  save  the  life  of  a  fellow- 


WISHES.  107 

creature,  Charles,  was  a  deed  for  which  the  Romans  voted 
their  noblest  crown,  —  a  wreath  of  oak-leaves." 

"Save  the  lives  of  two  men,  and  make  sixty  thousand 
perish,  like  Phocion  in  the  forty-five  battles  he  fought  ! 
Do  you  call  that  sufficient  compensation  ?  " 

"Faith,  yes,  when  the  two  men  were  Alcibiades  and 
Xenophon." 

"  Well,  I  have  n't  as  much  ambition  as  you,"  said  Charles, 
with  a  sigh.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  an  Alexander,  a  Scipio, 
or  a  Caesar  ;  I  shall  be  contented  if  I  am  only  —  I  won't 
say  Virgil,  for  there  never  can  be  but  one  Virgil,  but  — 
Horace,  Longinus,  perhaps  Apuleius.  You  want  camps, 
horses,  armies,  tents,  fine  uniforms,  drums,  bugles,  trumpets, 
military  bands,  the  rattle  of  musketry,  the  roar  of  cannon  ; 
but  for  me,  the  aurea  mediocritas  of  a  poet  suffices,  —  a 
little  house  full  of  friends,  a  large  library  full  of  books,  a 
life  of  work  and  dreams,  and  the  death  of  the  righteous  to 
end  it  ;  if  God  grants  all  that,  he  will  have  done  more  for 
me  than  I  ask.     Ah,  if  I  only  knew  Greek  !  " 

"  But  if  you  are  going  to  Pichegru,  he  '11  certainly  make 
you  an  aide-de-camp,  in  course  of  time." 

"  No,  he  is  to  make  me  his  secretary  at  once  —  There  ! 
I  've  strapped  my  bag." 

"And  I  've  packed  my  trunk." 

Eugène  went  into  Charles's  room. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "you  are  a  happy  fellow  to  know  how  to 
limit  your  wishes;  you  have  some  chance,  at  any  rate,  of 
getting  what  you  want,  whereas  I  —  " 

"  Do  you  think  my  ambition  is  n't  as  great  as  yours, 
Eugène  ?  is  n't  it  as  hard  to  be  Diderot  as  to  be  Maréchal 
de  Saxe,  or  Voltaire  as  Monsieur  de  Turenne  ?  Not  that  I 
expect  to  be  either  Diderot  or  Voltaire." 

"  Nor  I  Maréchal  de  Saxe." 

"  Never  mind  ;  let  us  wish  it  to  each  other." 

Here  the  voice  of  Pierre  Augereau  was  heard  at  the 
bottom  of  the  staircase. 

"  Come,  young  men  ;  supper  is  ready." 


108  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Come,  monsieur  learned  writer  !  "  said  Eugène. 

"  Come,  citizen  general  !  "  said  Charles. 

A  rare  thing  !  each  had  wished  for  that  which  God 
designed  for  him  ;  each  desired  the  future  that  Providence 
held  in  store  for  him. 

One  last  word  here  to  end  the  terrible  events  of  this  day, 
after  which  we  will  return  to  these  young  fellows.  At  six 
o'clock  a  post-chaise  drove  up  to  the  guillotine,  to  tlie 
uprights  of  which  Euloge  Schneider  was  bound.  Two 
gendarmes  got  out,  unfastened  Schneider,  made  him  get 
into  the  vehicle,  and  took  their  places  beside  him.  The 
post-chaise  then  started  at  a  gallop  on  the  road  to  Paris. 

On  the  12th  Germinal,  year  II.  (April  1,  1794)  Euloge 
Schneider  was  guillotined  for  having  by  "  immoral  and 
cruel  extortions  and  vexations,  by  revolting  and  sanguinary 
abuse  of  his  powers  as  Commissioner  of  the  Republic, 
oppressed,  robbed,  assassinated,  dishonored,  and  destroyed 
the  property  and  peace  of  families." 

On  the  same  scaffold,  a  few  days  later,  died  Young 
the  poet-shoemaker,  Edelmann  the  musician,  and  the 
ex-professor  of  the  college  at  Besançon,  Monnet.  Of  the 
five  heads  which  sat  around  Euloge  Schneider's  table  on 
the  memorable  day  when  Mademoiselle  de  Brvimpt  came  to 
implore  her  father's  pardon,  that  of  Charles  was  the  only 
one  which  remained  on  its  shoulders  at  the  end  of  four 
months. 


THE   COMTE   DE   SAINTE-HERMINE.  l09 

XV. 

THE    COMTE    DE    SAINTE-HEKMINE. 

The  supper  was  excellent,  the  night  fine,  and  whether  it 
was  that  he  did  not  like  to  disturb  his  comrades  by  a  late 
return,  or  that  he  wished  to  be  sure  to  see  the  lads  off, 
Augereau  did  not  go  back  to  barracks  that  night. 

The  next  morning  at  six  a  carriole  stood  before  the  door 
of  the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne.  Madame  Teutch  declared  that 
her  poor  little  Charles  was  not  strong  enough  to  walk 
twenty-four  miles  in  one  day,  and  that,  consequently,  she 
and  Sergeant-major  Augereau  would  drive  him  as  far  as 
Bischwillers,  that  is  to  say,  more  than  two  thirds  of  the 
way.  At  Bischwillers  they  would  breakfast,  and  as  it 
was  only  seven  miles  from  that  little  town  to  Auenheim, 
Charles  could  easily  do  the  rest  of  the  way  on  foot.  We 
have  already  said  that  Pichegru's  headquarters  were  at 
Auenheim. 

They  were  to  drop  Eugène  on  the  way  at  the  coach-office 
of  the  diligence  to  Paris,  which  in  those  days  took  four 
days  and  two  nights  to  go  from  Strasbourg  to  the  capital. 
Madame  Teutch  and  Augereau  took  the  back  seats,  Charles 
and  Eugène  the  front.  Sleepy  was  on  the  box,  and  the 
caravan  started. 

The  carriole,  as  agreed  upon,  stopped  at  the  coach-ofiice, 
where  the  horses  were  already  in  the  diligence,  which  was 
ready  to  start.  Eugène  got  out  ;  Madame  Teutch,  Charles, 
and  the  sergeant,  not  willing  to  leave  him  till  the  last 
moment,  got  out  too.  Five  minutes  later  the  conductor 
summoned  all  to  take  their  seats.  Eugène  kissed,  and  was 
kissed  in  turn.  Madame  Teutch  stuffed  cakes  into  his 
pockets  ;  Charles  pressed  his  hands,  weeping  ;  Augereau 
explained  to  him  for  the  hundredth  time  a  certain  secret 


110  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

pass  he  had  learned  of  the  best  fencing-master  in  Naples, 
and  then  the  moment  came  to  part.  Eugène  disappeared 
into  the  bowels  of  the  huge  machine  ;  the  door  was  closed; 
the  horses,  facing  the  great  gates,  started  ;  Eugene's  prohle 
was  visible  above  the  door  ;  they  heard  his  voice  crying  out, 
"  Adieu  !  "  and  then  the  diligence  turned  into  the  street 
and  was  lost  to  view.  The  listeners  heard  for  a  few 
moments  the  rumbling  of  the  wheels,  the  jingling  of  the 
bells,  the  clacking  of  the  postilion's  whip  ;  then  the  sounds 
died  away  in  the  distance  and  all  was  over. 

Nothing  is  so  sad  as  a  parting  ;  those  who  are  left 
behind  never  seem  to  have  stayed  voluntarily,  but  to  be 
forgotten  and  neglected.  Madame  Teutch,  Augereau,  and 
Charles  looked  at  each  other  sadly. 

"  There  !  he 's  gone,"  said  Charles,  wiping  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  and  in  two  hours  it  will  be  your  turn,  poor  little 
Charles,"  said  citoyenne  Teutch. 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Augereau,  the  representative  of  stern 
courage.  "Mountains  don't  meet,  says  the  proverb,  but 
men  do." 

"  Alas  !  the  proverb  says  '  men,'  "  responded  Madame 
Teutch  ;  "  it  does  n't  say  anything  about  women." 

They  got  back  into  the  carriole.  In  spite  of  an  heroic 
struggle  Charles  attempted  to  make,  Madame  Teutch  took 
him  on  her  knees  and  kissed  him  for  himself  and  Eugène 
both.  Augereau  filled  his  pipe  and  lighted  it  ;  Codes  was 
waked  up,  being,  true  to  his  nickname,  asleep  on  the  box. 
The  carriole  started,  but  the  route  was  changed  ;  the  porter 
having  been  questioned  as  to  which  was  the  shortest  and 
best  road  to  Auenheim,  that  by  Bischwiller  or  that  through 
Offendorff,  declared  that  there  was  no  question  about  it  ; 
the  road  to  Bischwiller  was  only  a  country  road,  but  that 
through  Offendorf  was  the  great  highway.  They  therefore 
went  by  Offendorff. 

The  road  to  Offendorff  is  charming  ;  it  skirts  the  Rhine 
and  keeps  constantly  in  sight  the  islands,  so  varied  in 
shape,   which   adorn   that    majestically   broad    river.      At 


THE    COMTE    DE    SAINTE-HERMINE.  Ill 

Offendorf  the  road  comes  down  to  the  bank.  The  travellers 
stopped  there  a  while  to  rest  the  horse  and  to  ask  at  which 
village  along  the  road  they  could  get  breakfast  ;  the  crisp 
morning  air  and  the  breeze  which  shook  the  hoar-frost  from 
the  branches  had  sharpened  the  appetites  of  the  three 
travellers.     Rohwillers  was  named  to  them. 

An  hour  later  they  stopped  before  the  tavern  of  the 
Lion  d'Or.  There  they  inquired  the  distance  to  Atienheim 
and  found  it  was  a  short  eight  miles,  which  a  good  walker 
could  do  in  two  hours  and  a  quarter.  Charles  declared  he 
would  not  allow  his  friends  to  go  any  farther  ;  for  he  was 
already  ashamed,  he  said,  at  having  to  own  before  Pichegru 
that  he  walked  only  a  third  of  the  way  ;  what  would  it  be 
if  they  drove  him  to  Auenheim  ?  he  should  die  of  shame. 
Perhaps  if  Madame  Teutch  had  been  by  herself  she  might 
have  insisted,  but  the  sergeant-major,  who  may  have  had  his 
own  reasons  for  wishing  to  be  alone  with  Madame  Teutch, 
took  Charles's  view  of  the  matter. 

It  was  then  half-past  ten  o'clock.  Breakfast  was  ordered  ; 
and  it  was  settled  that  at  twelve  the  young  traveller  should 
start  for  Auenheim,  while  Augei-eau,  Madame  Teutch,  and 
Sleepy  should  return  to  Strasbourg. 

The  breakfast  was  sad  at  first  ;  but  the  sergeant-major 
not  being  of  a  melancholy  turn  of  mind,  the  good  Ehine 
wines  soon  brightened  the  party.  They  drank  to  Augereau's 
promotion  ;  to  the  continued  good  health  of  Madame  Teutch  ; 
to  Eugene's  safe  journey,  and  the  happy  issue  of  his  father's 
case  ;  also  to  the  future  of  Charles  ;  and  the  result  of  all 
these  libations  was  that  sadness  disappeared,  and  gave 
place  to  an  unlimited  confidence  in  the  ways  of  Provi- 
dence. People  no  longer  believed  in  the  old  God,  who 
had  been  deposed;  nor  in  the  new  one  just  proclaimed: 
the  Pather  Eternal  was  too  old;  the  Supreme  Being  too 
young  ;  but  Providence,  whom  the  destroyers  of  altars  had 
overlooked,  suited  everj^body. 

Mid-day  sounded.     The  sergeant-major  rose. 

"  Honest  folk  keep  their  word,"  he  said  ;   "  we  agreed  to 


112  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

say  good-bye  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  twelve  o'clock  has 
struck  ;  besides,  even  if  we  stayed  together  an  hour  longer, 
or  even  two  hours,  we  should  still  have  to  part;  let  us 
therefore  part  at  once.  Come  Charley,  my  boy,  show  you 
are  a  man." 

Charles,  without  answering,  shouldered  his  bag,  took  his 
stick  in  one  hand  and  his  hat  in  the  other,  kissed  the 
sergeant-major,  then  Madame  ïeutch,  and  tried  to  thank 
her,  but  his  voice  failed  him.  He  could  only  say,  ''Au 
revoir."  Then  he  slipped  an  assignat  of  twenty  francs 
into  Sleepy's  hand,  and  sprang  forward  along  the  road. 

When  he  had  gone  about  fifty  steps  he  turned  round  and 
saw  that  as  the  street  had  made  a  curve,  Madame  ïeutch 
and  the  sergeant  had  gone  to  a  window  on  the  upper  floor 
of  the  inn,  from  which  they  could  see  the  road  to  Auen- 
heim.  Fearful  of  her  own  weakness,  the  worthy  hostess  of 
the  hôtel  de  la  Lanterne  was  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the 
sergeant-major.  With  her  free  hand  she  was  waving  her 
handkerchief  to  Charles.  Charles  pulled  out  his  and  re- 
sponded to  her  signals.  Another  turn  in  the  street  took 
him  out  of  sight  of  the  window,  so  he  returned  upon  his 
steps  for  a  last  flourish  of  his  handkerchief  to  his  good 
friends  ;  but  the  window  was  already  closed,  and  he  could 
not  see  through  the  panes  whether  they  were  still  in  the 
room  or  had  gone  downstairs.  Charles  gave  a  great  sigh,  set 
off  again  at  a  good  pace,  and  was  soon  beyond  the  village. 

It  was  then  the  middle  of  December  ;  the  winter  had 
been  severe  ;  for  three  days  snow  had  been  falling,  —  a  fact 
scarcely  perceptible  in  town,  where  it  melted  as  it  fell  ;  but 
in  the  solitude  of  the  country,  where  there  was  little  or  no 
traffic  to  disperse  it,  it  had  hardened  under  a  temperature 
of  ten  degrees  of  cold.  The  scene  was  resplendent.  It 
seemed  as  if  night  had  spread  a  carpet  of  white  velvet 
woven  with  silver  threads.  The  trees  with  their  pendant 
icicles  resembled  enormous  chandeliers.  Birds  were  flying 
above  the  road,  anxiously  wondering  where  was  the  food 
which  God  provided  for  them,  and  which  for  the  last  three 


THE   COMTE   DE   SAINTE-HERMINE.  113 

days  had  been  so  rare  ;  puffing  out  their  feathers  to  keep 
warm,  they  looked  to  be  double  their  usual  size,  and  when 
they  lighted  on  the  swaying  branches  of  the  trees,  they 
shook  down  a  rain  of  diamonds  as  they  swung. 

Charles,  who  was  destined  to  become  in  later  years  so 
sensitive  to  the  beauties  of  nature  that  he  pictured  them 
in  the  language  of  true  appreciation,  felt  his  sad  thoughts 
melt  away  in  presence  of  a  nature  so  picturesque.  Proud 
of  the  freedom  of  body  and  mind  with  which  he  was  now 
starting  to  make  his  way  in  the  world,  he  walked  along 
unconscious  of  distance  or  fatigue. 

He  had  gone  about  three  quarters  of  the  way  when,  just 
beyond  Sessersheim,  he  was  overtaken  by  a  squad  of  some 
twenty  foot-soldiers,  commanded  by  a  captain  on  horseback, 
who  was  smoking  a  cigar.  These  twenty  men  were  walking 
in  two  files.  Between  them,  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
walked  a  man  who  had  evidently  dismounted,  for  he  wore 
spurs  on  his  riding-boots.  A  large  white  cloak  covered  him 
so  completely  from  his  shoulders  to  his  heels,  that  noth- 
ing could  be  seen  of  him  but  a  youthful  and  very  intel- 
ligent head,  the  habitual  expression  of  which  seemed  to  be 
carelessness  and  gayety.  He  wore  on  his  head  a  fatigue 
cap  of  a  shape  not  used  in  France. 

The  captain  of  the  troop,  noticing  Charles  as  he  walked 
along  beside  the  young  man  with  the  white  mantle,  looked 
at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then,  observing  his  youth,  said  to 
him  kindly  :  — 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  young  citizen  ?  " 

"Captain,"  said  the  boy,  thinking  he  ought  to  give  a 
fuller  explanation  than  that  demanded,  "  I  come  from 
Strasbourg,  and  I  am  going  to  the  headquarters  of  citizen 
Pichegru  at  Auenheim  ;  am  I  far  from  there  ?  " 

"  No,  not  more  than  half  a  mile,"  said  the  young  man  in 
the  white  cloak.  ''See,  through  the  trees  yonder, — those 
are  the  first  houses  of  Auenheim." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Charles,  beginning  to  hasten  his 
steps. 


114  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Look  here,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  man  with  the 
white  cloak,  "if  you  are  not  in  a  great  hurry  you  might 
walk  with  us,  and  that  would  give  me  time  to  ask  some 
news  of  our  part  of  the  country." 

"  What  country,  citizen  ?  "  asked  Charles,  amazed,  and 
noticing  for  the  first  time  that  the  young  man's  handsome 
and  noble  countenance  wore  a  tinge  of  sadness. 

"Why!"  said  the  other,  "you  are  from  Besançon,  or, 
at  any  rate,  from  Franche-Comté.  Can  our  native  accent 
be  mistaken  ?  I,  too,  am  a  Franc-Comtois,  and  I  glory 
in  it!" 

Charles  reflected;  this  recognition  of  locality  by  the 
accent  reminded  him  of  a  bit  of  school  knowledge. 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  "  do  you  want  to  be  in- 
cognito ?  " 

"  No,  no,  citizen  ;  I  was  only  thinking  that  Theoph  rastus 
who  was  originally  named  Tyrtamus,  and  whom  the  Athen- 
ians, as  the  change  of  name  shows,  called  the  "fine  speaker," 
was  recognized  as  a  Lesbian  by  a  market-gardener  after  he 
had  lived  fifty  years  at  Athens." 

"  You  are  learned,  monsieur,"  said  the  young  man,  laugh- 
ing ;  "  that 's  too  much  luxury  in  these  days." 

"  No  ;  for  I  am  going  to  join  General  Pichegru,  and  he  is 
a  very  learned  man.  I  am  ambitious  to  become  his  secre- 
tary, thanks  to  a  good  recommendation  to  him  which  I  have. 
And  you,  citizen,  are  you  in  the  army  ?  " 

"  No,  not  exactly." 

"  Then,"  said  Charles,  "  I  suppose  you  are  attached  to 
some  ministry  ?  " 

"  Attached  !  that 's  just  the  word  for  it  —  only,  I  am  not 
attached  to  a  ministry,  I  am  attached  to  myself." 

"  But,"  said  Charles,  dropping  his  voice,  "  you  called  me 
'monsieur'  just  now,  out  loud;  are  not  you  afraid  of 
losing  your  place  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  captain,"  cried  the  young  man  laughing,  "  listen 
to  this  ;  here  's  a  youth  who  is  afraid  if  I  call  him  '  monsieur  ' 
I  shall  get  into  trouble  and  lose  my  place  !     Do  you  know 


THE   COMTE   DE   SAINTE-HERMINE.  115 

any  one  who  would  like  my  place  ?  I  '11  give  it  him  gladly 
if  he  '11  take  it." 

The  captain  answered  with  a  pained  smile,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders  ;  Charles  felt  almost  certain  he  heard  him 
mutter  the  words  :  "  Poor  devil  !  " 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  young  man  with  the  white  cloak  ;  "  as 
you  are  from  Besançon  —  for  that  is  so,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  don't  conceal  it,"  said  Charles. 

"  Then  you  probably  know  the  family  of  Sainte-Hermine  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  widow,  whose  husband  was  guillotined  eight 
months  ago." 

"  That 's  right,"  said  the  man  in  the  cloak,  raising  his 
eyes  to  heaven." 

"  And  three  sons." 

"Three  sons,  yes — there  are  still  three,"  he  muttered 
with  a  sigh. 

"  The  eldest,  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine,  emigrated, 
and  there  are  two  younger  sons  :  one  about  twenty,  the 
other  fourteen  or  fifteen." 

"Thank  you;  how  long  is  it  since  you  left  Besançon  ?  " 

"  Hardly  a  week." 

"  Then  you  can  give  me  the  latest  news  of  that  good 
family." 

"  Yes,  but  sad  news." 

"  Go  on  ;  tell  me." 

"  The  night  before  I  came  away,  my  father  and  I  attended 
the  funeral  of  the  countess." 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man,  as  if  he  had  received 
an  unexpected  blow  ;  "  then  the  countess  is  dead  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

*•  Well  !  so  much  the  better,"  he  said,  looking  up  to 
heaven,  while  the  tears  rolled  from  his  eyes. 

"  Why  better  ?  "  cried  Charles. 

"Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  "better  she  should  die  of 
Illness  than  of  grief  on  hearing  that  her  son  was  shot." 

"  Has  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  been  shot  ?  " 

«  Not  yet,  but  he  will  be." 


116  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  When  ?  " 

"  When  we  reach  the  fortress  of  Auenheim  ;  that 's  where 
the  executions  take  place,  I  am  told." 

"  Is  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  in  the  fortress  of 
Auenheim  ?  " 

"  JSTo,  but  they  are  taking  him  there." 

"  Will  they  shoot  him  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  I  get  there." 

"  Then  are  you  in  charge  of  the  execution  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  they  '11  allow  me  to  give  the  order  to  fire,  I 
hope  ;  that  favor  is  never  refused  to  a  brave  soldier  taken 
with  arms  in  his  hand,  émiyré  or  not." 

"  My  God  !  "  cried  Charles,  beginning  to  perceive  the 
truth,  "  are  you  —  " 

"  Exactly,  my  young  friend  ;  that  is  why  I  laughed  when 
you  advised  me  to  be  prudent,  and  why  I  offered  my  place 
to  any  one  who  would  take  it  ;  I  am  not  afraid  of  losing  it, 
for,  as  you  said,  I  am  attached.'" 

Shaking  open  his  cloak  with  a  double  motion  of  the 
shoulders,  he  showed  the  lad  that  his  hands  were  bound 
together  in  front  and  his  arms  attached  behind. 

"Then,"  said  Charles,  with  a  movement  of  terror,  "you 
are  —  " 

"The  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine,  my  friend.  You  see  I 
had  good  reason  to  say  that  my  poor  mother  was  better 
dead." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Charles. 

"Happily,"  he  added  through  his  clenched  teeth,  "my 
brothers  are  living." 


THE  FATIGUE  CAP.  117 

XVI. 

THE  FATIGUE  CAP. 

Charles  looked  at  tlie  émigré  with  an  amazement  that 
amounted  to  stupefaction.  Could  it  be  ?  that  handsome, 
calm  young  officer,  was  he  really  about  to  die  ?  Then 
there  was  such  a  thing  as  men  going  smiling  to  death  ? 
He  had  never  seen  but  one  man  who  thought  he  was  going 
to  die,  and  that  was  Schneider,  who  was  only  fastened  to 
the  guillotine.  That  man  was  abject  with  terror  ;  his  legs 
gave  way  under  him,  and  they  had  to  lift  him  up  the  steps 
of  the  scaffold.  The  Comte  de  Saiiite-Hermine,  on  the 
contrary,  seemed  to  have  gathered  all  the  powers  of  life 
for  the  moment  of  death  ;  he  walked  with  a  light  step  and 
a  smile  on  his  lips.     Charles  drew  nearer  to  him. 

"  Is  there  no  way  to  save  you  ?  "  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  declare  to  you  frankly  I  don't  know  of  any  ;  if  I  did 
I  would  employ  it." 

''  Oh  !  my  God  !  —  Excuse  me  ;  I  was  so  far  from 
expecting  —  " 

"  —  to  travel  in  such  bad  company  ?  " 

"  I  would  like  to  ask  you  —  " 

The  boy  hesitated. 

"  To  ask  me  what  ?  " 

Charles  dropped  his  voice  to  a  lower  tone. 

" — if  I  could  do  anything  for  you." 

"  Certainly  you  can  do  something  for  me  ;  I  have  been 
turning  an  idea  over  in  my  mind  ever  since  I  saw  you." 

"  Tell  me." 

"  There  may  be  a  little  danger,  and  I  fear  it  may 
frighten  you." 

"  I  am  ready  to  do  you  any  service  ;  the  few  days  I  was 
at  Strasbourg  I  saw  so  many  dreadful  things  that  nothing 
can  frighten  me  now." 


118  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

"  I  want  to  send  some  news  to  my  brother." 
"  I  will  see  that  it  reaches  him." 
"  But  it  is  a  letter." 
"  He  shall  have  it." 
"  You  are  not  afraid  of  the  danger  ?  " 
"  I  have  told  you  I  am  not  afraid  of  anything." 
"  I  could  give  it,  I  know,  to  the  captain,  and  it  is  prob- 
able he  would  have  it  delivered." 

"  With  the  captain  it  is  probable,  with  me  it  is  certain." 

"  Then  listen  to  me  attentively." 

"  I  am  listening." 

"  The  letter  is  sewn  into  my  fatigue  cap." 

«  Good." 

"  Ask  the  captain  to  let  you  be  present  at  my  execution." 

«I  Î " 

"  Now  don't  cry  out  ;  it  is  a  curious  thing  to  see  ;  many 
persons  go  to  see  executions  for  pleasure." 

"  I  should  never  have  the  courage." 

"  Pooh  !  it  is  soon  over." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no,  no  !  " 

"  Then  I  '11  say  no  more,"  said  the  prisoner  ;  and  he  began 
to  whistle  ''Vive  Henri  IV." 

The  boy's  heart  seemed  to  turn  in  his  bosom,  but  he 
came  to  a  resolution.     He  again  went  nearer  to  the  émigré. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said,  ''  I  will  do  all  you  wish." 

"  Come,  you  are  a  nice  boy  ;  thank  you  !  " 

"Only  —  " 

"What?" 

"  You  must  ask  the  colonel  to  let  me  be  present.  I 
should  never  get  over  the  feeling  that  they  might  think 
it  was  for  pleasure  that  —  " 

"  Very  good  ;  I  '11  ask  him  ;  as  compatriots  he  will  think 
it  all  natural.  Besides,  these  are  soldiers  ;  they  don't  make 
such  a  fuss  about  things  as  the  bourgeois  ;  they  are 
worthy  fellows  who  do  a  stern  duty  and  soften  it  as  much 
as  they  can.     What  was  I  saying  ?  " 

"  That  I  was  to  be  present  at  your  execution." 


THE   FATIGUE   CAP.  119 

"Yes  —  I'll  ask  permission  to  send  my  brother  something 
that  belonged  to  me,  my  cap  for  instance  ;  that's  often  asked; 
and  the  cap,  you  see,  will  never  be  suspected." 

"  No." 

"When  I  give  the  word  to  fire,  I'll  throw  it  aside. 
Don't  seem  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  pick  it  up,  they  might 
suspect  something  ;  but  when  I  am  dead  —  " 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Charles,  shuddering  all  over, 

"  Here,  some  of  you,  have  n't  you  a  drop  of  brandy  to 
give  this  boy  ?  "  said  the  prisoner.     "  He  is  cold." 

"  Come  here,  my  little  man,"  said  the  captain. 

He  offered  his  flask  to  the  boy;  Charles  swallowed  a 
mouthful  of  brandy,  —  not  that  he  was  cold,  but  he  wanted 
to  hide  what  he  felt. 

"  Thank  you,  captain,"  he  said. 

"  Very  welcome,  my  boy,  very  welcome.  Will  you  take 
some,  citizen  Sainte-Hermine  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  no,  captain,"  replied  the  prisoner,  "  I 
never  drink  brandy." 

Charles  returned  to  his  side. 

"I. was  going  to  say,"  he  resumed,  "when  I  am  dead 
pick  it  up,  without  appearing  to  think  it  of  more  importance 
than  it  seems  to  be  ;  but  you  understand,  don't  you  ?  that 
my  last  praj'^er  is,  —  and  the  last  prayer  of  a  dying  man 
should  be  sacred,  —  my  last  prayer  is  that  the  letter  may 
reach  my  brother.  If  the  cap  is  in  your  way,  take  out  the 
letter,  and  throw  the  cap  into  the  nearest  ditch  ;  but  the 
letter  —  the  letter,  you  won't  lose  it,  will  you  ?  " 

"No." 

"  You  won't  mislay  it  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  don't  feel  anxious." 

"  You  will  give  it  yourself  to  my  brother  ?  " 

"Yes,  myself." 

"  Try  to  do  so  ;  you  must  tell  him  how  I  died,  and  he 
will  say  :  '  I  had  a  brave  brother,  and  when  my  tui-n  comes, 
I  '11  die  as  he  did  ;  '  and  if  his  turn  does  come,  I  know 
he  '11  die  as  I  do." 


120  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  a  point  where  the  roads 
forked.  The  high-road  continued  on  to  Auenheim,  the 
side  road  went  up  to  the  citadel. 

"  Citizen,"  said  the  captain  to  Charles,  "  if  you  are  going, 
as  you  said,  to  the  headquarters  of  citizen  Pichegru,  that 
is  your  way.  Good-bye  ;  and  try  to  become  a  true  soldier; 
you  are  going,  at  any  rate,  to  a  good  school." 

Charles  endeavored  to  speak,  but  the  words  would  not 
come.     He  looked  at  the  prisoner  with  a  supplicating  eye. 

"  Captain,"  said  the  prisoner,  "  will  you  grant  me  a 
favor  ?  " 

"  If  it  is  in  my  power." 

**  It  depends  wholly  on  you." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"Well,  —  perhaps  you'll  think  it  a  bit  of  weakness,  but  if 
so  don't  speak  of  it,  will  you  ?  —  I  should  like  to  have  ray 
compatriot  with  me  when  I  die  ;  we  are  both  children  of  the 
Jura,  this  boy  and  I,  and  our  families  both  live  in  Besançon 
and  know  each  other.  He  will  be  going  home  before  long, 
and  he  can  tell  my  people  how  he  met  me  by  accident 
and  was  with  me  to  the  last  moment,  —  in  short,  how  I 
died." 

The  captain  looked  at  the  boy  with  a  thoughtful  eye. 
Charles  was  crying. 

"Faith,"  said  he,  "  if  it  gives  you  both  pleasure  — " 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  give  him  much  pleasure,"  said  the 
prisoner,  laughing,  "  but  it  will  give  me  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure." 

"I  see  no  objection,  if  you  yourself  ask  it." 

"  Then  it  is  granted  ?  " 

"  Granted,"  replied  the  captain. 

The  procession,  which  had  paused  during  this  colloquy 
at  the  forking  of  the  road,  now  continued  its  way  along  the 
by-road.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  the  citadel  of  Auenheim 
came  in  sight.  That  was  to  be  the  end  of  this  funereal 
march.     Charles  went  close  to  the  prisoner. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  latter,  "  all  went  well." 


i 


THE   FATIGUE   CAP.  121 

They  marched  up  the  slope,  which  was  rather  steep, 
though  it  wound  around  the  hill  ;  the  captain  gave  the 
countersign,  and  the  small  procession  was  admitted  through 
the  gate  beyond  the  drawbridge.  The  escort,  the  prisoner, 
and  Charles,  were  left  in  the  courtyard  of  the  fortress, 
while  the  commander  of  the  little  troop  went  to  make  his 
report  to  the  colonel  in  command.  During  this  time  the 
Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  and  Charles  improved  their 
acquaintance,  and  the  lad  gave  the  count  some  information 
about  himself  and  his  family. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  the  captain  reappeared. 

"  Are  you  ready,  citizen  ?  "  he  said  to  the  prisoner. 

"  When  you  please,  captain,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Have  you  any  observations  to  make  ?  " 

"No,  but  I  have  some  favors  to  ask." 

"  I  have  already  said  that  anything  which  depended  on 
me  should  be  granted." 

"  Thank  you,  captain." 

The  captain  approached  the  count. 

"We  may  serve  under  different  flags,  "  he  said,  "but  we 
are  both  Frenchmen,  and  brave  hearts  know  each  other  at 
once.     Tell  me,  therefore,  what  you  wish." 

"  In  the  first  place,  to  be  relieved  of  these  ropes,  which 
make  me  look  like  a  galley-slave." 

"That  is  very  just,"  said  the  captain;  "unbind  the 
prisoner." 

Two  men  advanced,  but  Charles  had  already  sprung  at 
the  count's  hands,  and  unbound  them. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  count,  flinging  out  his  arms  and  shak- 
ing himself  free  of  his  cloak,  "  it  does  one  good  to  be  at 
liberty  !  " 

"  And  next  ?  "  inquired  the  captain. 

"  I  would  like  to  give  the  word  to  fire." 

"  You  shall  do  so.     Anything  more  ?  " 

"I  wish  to  send  a  remembrance  to  my  family." 

"You  know  that  we  are  forbidden  to  receive  letters 
from  political  prisoners  ;  anything  else,  certainly." 


122  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  I  would  not  give  you  so  much  trouble  ;  here  is  my 
young  townsman,  who  will  accompany  me,  as  you  have 
agreed,  to  execution  ;  he  will  take  charge  of  something  for 
my  family,  —  anything,  no  matter  what,  which  belonged  to 
me,  — my  cap,  for  instance." 

The  count  named  the  cap  carelessly,  as  he  might  have 
mentioned  any  other  piece  of  clothing,  so  that  the  captain 
made  no  more  difficulty  in  granting  this  request  than  the 
others. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Faith,  yes,"  replied  the  count,  "  and  high  time,  too,  for 
my  feet  are  getting  cold,  and  if  there  is  anything  I  detest, 
it  is  cold  feet.  Let  us  start,  captain  ;  you  are  coming  with 
us,  I  presume." 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  do  so." 

The  count  bowed,  pressed  Charles's  hand,  smiling,  and 
looked  at  the  captain  as  if  to  ask  which  way  to  go. 

"  This  way,"  said  the  captain,  placing  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  column. 

They  followed  him,  passed  under  a  postern,  and  entered 
a  second  courtyard,  on  the  ramparts  of  which  were  senti- 
nels. At  the  farther  end  was  a  wall,  about  the  height  of 
a  man,  which  seemed  to  have  been  riddled  with  balls. 

"  Ah  !  there 's  the  place,"  said  the  prisoner. 

He  walked  toward  the  wall  ;  at  four  paces  from  it  he 
stopped. 

"  It  is  here,"  said  the  captain.  "  Clerk,  read  the  sentence 
to  the  prisoner." 

After  it  was  read  the  count  made  a  sign  with  his  head  as 
if  to  recognize  its  justice  ;  then  he  said  ;  — 

"  Excuse  me,  captain,  but  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  by 
myself." 

The  soldiers  and  the  captain  drew  back  from  him.  He 
put  the  elbow  of  his  right  arm  into  his  left  hand,  rested 
his  forehead  in  his  right  hand,  closed  his  eyes,  and  stood 
motionless,  moving  his  lips,  though  no  sound  issued  from 
them.     He  was  praying. 


THE    FATIGUE    CAP.  123 

A  sort  of  sacred  emanation  is  around  a  man  about  to 
die,  when  he  prays,  which  the  greatest  unbelievers  respect. 
Not  a  word,  not  a  jest,  not  a  laugh,  troubled  this  last 
earthly  interview  of  the  count  with  God. 

When  he  lifted  his  head,  his  face  was  smiling  ;  he  kissed 
his  young  compatriot,  and  said,  like  Charles  the  First  ;  — 

"  Remember  !  " 

Charles  bowed  his  head,  weeping. 

Then,  in  a  firm  voice,  the  count  said,  — 

"  Attention  !  " 

The  soldiers  took  their  places  in  two  lines  at  ten  paces 
from  him.  Charles  and  the  captain  stood  each  on  one 
side. 

The  prisoner,  as  though  he  did  not  choose  to  give  the 
word  to  fire  with  his  head  covered,  took  off  his  cap  and 
flung  it  from  him  as  if  by  chance.  It  fell  at  the  boy's 
feet. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  said  the  count. 

''  Yes,"  replied  the  soldiers. 

"  Prepare  arms  !  —  Aim  !  —  Fire  !  —  Vive  le  R  —  " 

He  did  not  have  time  to  finish  the  word  ;  the  volley  was 
fired  ;  seven  balls  went  through  his  breast.  He  fell  face 
foremost  to  the  ground. 

Charles  picked  up  the  cap,  put  it  in  his  bosom,  and 
buttoned  his  jacket  over  it  ;  but  as  he  did  so,  he  felt  it 
over  and  knew  that  the  letter  was  still  there. 

Half  an  hour  later  an  orderly  was  ushering  him  into 
the  office  of  citizen  General  Pichegru. 


124  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

XVII. 

PICHEGRU. 

PiCHEGRU  will  occupy  so  important  a  place  in  the  history 
we  are  now  relating  that  we  must  fix  the  eyes  of  the 
reader  on  him  with  more  care  than  we  have  given  to  the 
secondary  personages  whom  the  needs  of  our  exposition 
have  brought  upon  the  scene. 

Charles  Pichegru  was  born  on  the  16th  of  February, 
1761,  in  the  village  of  Planches  near  Arbois.  His  family 
were  poor  rustics,  known  for  three  or  four  hundred  years 
as  honest  laboring  men  ;  his  forefathers  got  their  name 
from  the  work  they  did  :  gru  or  grain,  joic  or  hoe,  from 
which  came  the  one  word  "Pichegru." 

Pichegru,  in  whom  were  all  the  precocious  impulses 
which  go  to  make  a  distinguished  man,  began  his  education 
with  the  monks  at  Arbois.  Finding  his  progress  very 
rapid,  especially  in  mathematics,  they  sent  him  to  Père 
Patrault,  one  of  their  professors,  at  the  military  school  at 
Brienne.  There  Pichegru  made  such  progress  that  by  the 
end  of  two  years  he  was  appointed  one  of  the  assistant- 
professors.  At  this  time  his  whole  ambition  was  to  become 
a  monk  ;  but  Père  Patrault,  who  discerned  Napoleon,  also 
discerned  Pichegru  ;  he  forced  him,  as  it  were,  into  a  mili- 
tary career.  Yielding  to  his  advice  Pichegru  entered,  in 
1783,  the  first  regiment  of  unmounted  artillery,  where, 
thanks  to  his  undoubted  talent,  he  soon  became  adjutant, 
with  which  rank  he  went  through  the  first  American  war. 
On  his  return  to  France  he  ardently  adopted  the  principles 
of  1789  and  was  presiding  over  the  Popular  society  of 
Besançon  when  a  battalion  of  volunteers  from  the  Gard 
passed  through  the  town  and  elected  him  their  commander. 
Two  months  later,  Pichegru  was  general-in-chief  of  the 
Army  of  the  Rhine. 


PICHEGRU.  125 

Monsieur  de  Narbonne,  minister  of  war  in  1789,  missing 
him  suddenly  one  day,  asked  those  about  him  :  "^  What 
has  become  of  that  young  officer  the  colonels  used  to  be  so 
deferential  to  ?  "  That  young  officer  had  become  the  com- 
mander-in-chief of  a  French  army,  -which  promotion  did 
not  make  him  one  whit  more  proud.  For  Pichegru's  rapid 
advancement,  his  splendid  education,  the  high  rank  he 
attained  in  the  army  made  absolutely  no  change  in  the 
simplicity  of  his  hea,rt.  From  the  time  he  was  a  non-com- 
missioned officer  he  had  had  a  mistress,  and  he  always 
remained  true  to  her.  She  was  named  Kose,  was  now 
thirty  years  old,  a  working-girl,  not  pretty,  and  slightly 
lame.  She  lived  in  Besançon.  Once  a  week  she  wrote  to 
the  general,  never  forgetting  her  inferior  position,  and  in 
spite  of  the  law  which  obliged  all  good  citizens  to  say 
"  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  to  each  other,  she  never  allowed 
herself  to  address  him  otherwise  than  as  "  you."  ^  These 
letters  were  full  of  good  counsel  and  tender  advice. 
She  urged  the  commander-in-chief  not  to  be  dazzled  by 
his  great  good  fortune,  but  to  stay  Chariot,  such  as  he 
was  in  his  own  village  ;  she  advised  economy  —  not  for 
herself,  thank  God,  for  her  work  maintained  her  ;  she  had 
made  six  gowns  for  the  wife  of  a  representative,  and  had 
cut  out  six  more  for  the  wife  of  a  general  ;  she  had  at 
that  moment  before  her  three  gold  pieces  which  were 
worth  fifteen  or  sixteen  hundred  francs  in  assignats  — 
but  for  his  parents  who  were  poor.  Pichegru,  no  matter 
how  busy  he  was,  always  read  her  letters  as  soon  as  he 
received  them  ;  then  he  would  put  them  carefully  away 
in  his  portfolio  and  remark,  with  a  softened  look  :  — 
"  Poor,  excellent  girl  —  and  yet  I  taught  her  to  spell  !  " 
The  reader  must  permit  us  to  enlarge  on  these  details. 
We  have  to  bring  upon  the  scene  and  show  in  action  men 

^  In  translating  from   the   French,  especially   books  relating  to  the 

French  Revolution,  it  is  impossible  to  give  the  tutoiement  —  the  u^e   of 

"  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  —  without  making  the   English   unnatural  to  the 
eye  and  fatiguing  to  read.  —  Tr. 


126  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

on  whom  the  eyes  of  Europe  were  fixed;  men  who  were 
praised  or  calumniated  according  to  the  necessities  of  the 
political  parties  who  raised  or  degraded  them.  These  men 
have  been  judged  by  historians  superficially,  thanks  to  the 
habit  historians  have  of  accepting  opinions  ready-made. 
Not  so  with  the  novelist,  who  is  constrained  to  enter  into 
the  smallest  details  because  he  there  finds,  often  enough, 
the  thread  which  guides  him  through  that  most  inextricable 
of  labyrinths,  the  human  heart.  We  venture  therefore  to 
assert  that  in  making  these  men  live  both  their  private 
lives,  which  historians  utterly  neglect,  and  their  public 
lives,  on  which  historians  dwell  too  much,  though  it  is 
often  onlj'  the  mask  of  the  real  man,  we  shall  show  for 
the  first  time  to  the  eyes  of  our  readers  the  true  char- 
acter of  those  illustrious  dead  whom  political  passions 
cast  into  the  hands  of  Calumny  with  an  order  to  bury 
them. 

We  have  all  read  in  the  history  of  historians  that 
Pichegru  betrayed  France  for  the  government  of  Alsace, 
the  ribbon  of  St.  Louis,  the  château  of  Chambord,  its  park 
and  its  dependencies,  twelve  pieces  of  cannon,  a  raiUion 
of  money  in  coin,  two  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year 
(half  to  revert  to  his  widow),  five  thousand  for  each 
of  his  children,  and  finally,  the  estate  of  Arbois,  to  bear 
the  name  of  Pichegru  and  be  exempt  from  taxes  for  ten 
years. 

The  first  material  answer  to  this  accusation  is  that  Piche- 
gru was  never  married  :  he  had  therefore  neither  wife 
nor  children  with  whose  future  to  concern  himself.  The 
moral  answer  is  to  show  Pichegru  in  his  private  life,  so 
as  to  make  known  what  were  his  personal  needs  and 
ambitions. 

Eose,  as  we  have  seen,  gave  him  two  pieces  of  advice  : 
to  economize  for  his  family,  who  were  poor,  and  to  remain 
the  good  and  simple  Chariot  he  had  ever  been.  Pichegru 
received  during  his  campaigns  a  daily  pay  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  francs  in  assignats  ;  the  monthly  salary  always 


PICHEGKU.  127 

came  in  great  sheets  of  paper  money  marked  off  in  com- 
partments. These  sheets  lay  on  his  table  with  a  pair  of 
scissors  beside  them,  and  every  day  enough  was  cut  off 
for  the  needs  of  the  day,  and  any  one  cut  who  chose.  The 
bunch  of  sheets  rarely  lasted  to  the  end  of  the  month; 
when  it  came  to  an  end  about  the  25th  or  26th,  as  often 
happened,  every  one  got  along  as  best  he  could  for  the 
remaining  days.  One  of  his  secretaries  remarked  of  him  : 
"The  great  mathematician  of  Brienne  was  literally  unable 
to  keep  his  washing-bill  regularly  paid  up."  And  he 
added,  "  An  empire  would  have  been  too  small  for  the 
exercise  of  his  genius,  a  farm  too  large  for  his  indo- 
lence." 

As  for  remaining,  as  Rose  entreated,  a  "good  Chariot," 
the  reader  shall  judge  if  the  advice  were  needed.  Two 
or  three  years  after  the  period  of  which  we  are  now  writ- 
ing, Pichegru,  at  the  height  of  his  popularity,  went  to  his 
beloved  Franche-Comté  to  re-visit  his  native  village  of 
Planches.  He  was  stopped  at  the  entrance  of  Arbois, 
under  a  triumphal  arch  erected  in  his  honor,  by  a  depu- 
tation who  came  to  compliment  him  and  to  invite  him  to 
a  grand  municipal  dinner  and  ball.  Pichegru  listened  to 
the  orator  with  a  smile  and  then  replied  :  — 

"My  dear  compatriot,  I  have  but  a  very  few  hours  to 
spend  in  my  native  place,  and  I  must  give  them  all  to  my 
parents  and  the  neighboring  villages.  If  the  friendship 
which  binds  us  together  induced  me  to  betray  the  duty  I 
owe  to  my  family  you  would  be  the  first  to  blame  me,  and 
you  would  do  right.  You  propose  to  me  a  dinner  and  a 
ball,  and  though  I  have  long  lost  the  habit  of  such  pleasures, 
I  would  gladly  accept  if  the  case  were  otherwise.  I  should 
be  delighted  to  drain  many  glasses  of  our  good  wine  in 
such  good  company,  and  to  see  the  pretty  girls  of  Arbois 
dance,  —  for  they  must  be  pretty  if  they  are  like  their 
mothers.  But  a  soldier  should  keep  his  word,  and  I  assure 
you  on  my  honor  that  I  have  long  promised  Barbier,  the 
vine-dresser,   to  take    my    first    meal   with  him   when  I 


128  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

returned  and,  in  all  conscience,  I  can't  eat  two  between  now 
and  sunset." 

"  But,  general,"  said  the  head  of  the  deputation,  "  I  see  a 
way  to  conciliate  matters." 

"  And  what 's  that  ?  " 

"  To  invite  Barbier  here  to  dine  with  you." 

"Ah!  if  he  consents,  I  will,"  said  Pichegru;  "but  I 
doubt  if  he  does.  Has  he  the  same  melancholy,  unsociable 
ways  that  got  hira  the  name  of  Despondent  Barbier  ?  " 

"More  than  ever,  general." 

"Well,  I'll  go  and  fetch  him  myself,"  said  Pichegru, 
"for  I  think  nothing  less  than  my  influence  will  bring 
him." 

"  Very  good,  general,  but  we  will  follow  you,"  said  the 
deputation. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  said  Pichegru. 

They  went  in  search  of  the  Despondent  Barbier,  a  poor 
vine-dresser,  whose  only  fortune  was  a  hundred  or  so  of 
vines,  with  the  product  of  which  he  moistened  the  crust  of 
his  hard  black  bread.  They  went  along  the  promenade 
of  the  town;  at  the  end  of  it,  the  general  stopped  snort 
before  a  linden  tree. 

"  Citizens,"  he  said,  "  preserve  that  tree  ;  don't  let  it 
ever  be  cut  down.  There,  a  hero  who  defended  your  town 
with  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  against  Biron  and  the  whole 
royal  army,  suffered  martyrdom.  That  hero  was  named 
Claude  Morel.  There,  on  that  tree,  the  brute  beast  Biron, 
who  ended  by  biting  the  hand  that  fed  him,  hanged  Claude 
Morel.  A  few  years  later  Biron,  the  assassin,  after  betray- 
ing France,  fought  for  his  life  with  the  executioner,  and 
the  executioner  was  forced  to  snatch  the  valet's  sword 
without  the  prisoner's  seeing  it,  and  by  a  miracle  of  agility 
he  cut  off  his  head." 

Then,  taking  off  his  hat  to  the  glorious  tree,  he  con- 
tinued his  way  amid  the  applause  of  those  who  accompanied 
him. 

Some  one   who  knew   the   place   of    the    Despondent's 


PICHEGEU.  129 

vineyard  discovered  him  among  his  vine-props  and  called 
to  him. 

"  Who  wants  me  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Chariot  !  "  said  a  voice. 

«What  Chariot?" 

"  Chariot  I'ichegru." 

"You  are  making  fun  of  me,"  said  the  man.  And  he 
began  again  to  weed  his  vines. 

"  It  is  n't  fun,  here  he  is  himself  !  " 

"Yes,  here  I  am,  Barbier,"  cried  Pichegru. 

The  Despondent  again  straightened  himself  up,  and 
seeing  the  uniform  of  a  general  officer  on  the  man  who 
spoke  to  him,  — 

"  Heavens  !  "  he  cried,  "  it  can't  be  he  !  " 

Then,  running  through  the  props,  he  came  to  the  edge  of 
the  vineyard  and  stopped  short,  fearing  to  be  the  victim 
of  an  hallucination.  At  last,  positively  recognizing  the 
general,  he  rushed  forward  and  flung  his  arms  about  him 
crying  out  :  — 

"  Chariot  !  it  is  really  you  ?  ah,  my  dear  Chariot  !  " 

"And  is  it  really  you,  my  dear  comrade?"  replied 
Pichegru,  pressing  him  to  his  heart. 

General  and  peasant  were  both  in  teai-s,  and  the  friends 
around  them  withdrew  to  leave  the  old  friends  to  weep  for 
the  happiness  of  this  meeting.  But  when  the  first  effusion 
was  over  the  leader  of  the  deputation  returned  and  ex- 
plained to  the  Despondent  Barbier  the  motive  of  the  visit 
thus  ceremoniously  paid  at  his  vineyard.  Barbier  looked 
at  Pichegru  to  find  out  whether  he  wished  him  to  accept. 
Pichegru  nodded  yes.  The  vine-dresser  thereupon  asked  for 
time  to  go  into  his  house  and  put  on  his  Sunday  clothes  ; 
but  the  president,  who  had  read  in  Berchou's  poem  the 
opinion  of  the  famous  gastronome  on  lukewarm  dinners, 
would  not  give  him  time,  and  Pichegru  and  the  Despondent 
were  carried  off  to  the  city  hall,  where  dinner  was  ready. 
Pichegru  placed  the  head  of  the  deputation  on  his  right,  but 
he  insisted  on  having  the  Despondent  Barbier  on  his  left, 

VOL.   I.  —  9 


130  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

talked  specially  to  him  during  the  dinner,  and  stayed  with 
him  till  he  left. 

We  hope  we  shall  be  excused  for  this  long  parenthesis, 
intended  to  explain  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the 
Revolution.  This  glance  cast  on  his  private  life  will  help 
us  to  understand  and  judge,  more  impartially  than  history 
has  yet  done,  this  public  character  who  is  one  of  the  most 
important  personages  of  the  first  part  of  this  book. 


Portrait  of  Pichegru 


CHARLES'S   RECEPTION.  131 


XVIII. 


CHARLES  s    KECEPTION. 


It  was  to  this  man,  destined,  if  some  fatal  divinity  should 
not  interfere,  to  a  mighty  future,  that  our  friend  Charles  was 
recommended;  and  it  was  with  an  emotion  even  greater 
than  that  he  had  felt  on  entering  the  presence  of  Schneider 
and  Saint-Just  that  the  lad  now  made  his  way  into  the 
vast,  but  plain-looking  house  where  Pichegru  had  estab- 
lished headquarters. 

"  The  general  is  in  his  office,  third  door  to  the  right," 
said  the .  orderly  on  service  at  the  end  of  a  species  of 
corridor. 

Charles  entered  the  corridor  with  a  firm  step,  which 
grew  slower  and  less  noisy  as  he  approached  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  designated  door.  When  he  reached  it  he 
found  it  was  half-open,  and  through  the  aperture  he  could 
see  the  general,  both  hands  resting  on  a  large  table,  study- 
ing a  map  of  Germany,  —  so  sure  was  he  that  it  would  not 
be  long  before  he  could  carry  hostilities  beyond  the  Rhine. 

"  Pichegru  ^  seemed  older  than  he  really  was  ;  his  natural 
conformation  being  partly  the  reason.  His  figure,  above 
middle  height,  was  solidly  set  up  on  vigorous  thighs.  He 
had  no  elegance  but  that  which  goes  with  strength.  His 
chest  was  broad  and  full,  although  his  back  was  somewhat 
round.  His  vast  shoulders  supported  a  thick,  short,  sinew}^ 
neck  which  gave  him  the  look  of  an  athlete  like  Milo,  or 
a  gladiator  like  Spartacus.  His  face  had  the  quadrangular 
shape,  which  is  very  characteristic  of  the  Franche-Comtians 
of  good  blood.     His  jaw-bones  were  enormous,  his  forehead 

1  I  take  this  portrait  verbatim  from  Charles  Nodier's  own  study  of 
Pichegru. 


132  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

vast,  and  very  wide  at  the  temples,  which  had  lost  their 
hair.  His  nose  was  well  proportioned,  with  a  clear-cut 
straight  line  from  base  to  tip,  forming  a  ridge.  Noth- 
ing could  equal  the  gentleness  of  his  eyes  when  he  had 
no  reason  to  render  their  glance  imjjerious  or  formidable. 
If  a  great  artist  wished  to  express  upon  a  human  face  the 
impassibility  of  a  demigod,  he  could  have  no  better  model 
than  the  head  of  Pichegru. 

"His  profound  contempt  for  men  and  for  events — he 
never  expressed  an  opinion  about  them  that  was  not  satiri- 
cally contemptuous — added  to  this  characteristic.  Pichegru 
served  the  social  order  that  he  found  established,  loyally, 
because  it  was  his  mission  to  do  so  ;  but  he  did  not  like 
it,  and  he  never  could  have  liked  it.  One  emotion  alone 
stirred  his  heart,  —  the  thought  of  a  village  where  he  hoped 
to  spend  his  old  age.  '  Fulhl  our  task  and  rest,'  he  often 
said  ;  '  that  is  the  whole  destiny  of  man.'  " 

A  movement  made  by  Charles  announced  his  presence  at 
the  door.  Pichegru  had  the  rapid  glance  and  the  quick  ear 
of  a  man  whose  life  may  frequently  depend  on  keenness  of 
sight  and  hearing.  He  raised  his  head,  and  fixed  his  large 
eyes  on  the  boy,  but  the  benevolence  those  eyes  expressed 
emboldened  the  latter.  He  entered  the  room;  and  making 
a  bow,  held  out  his  letter . 

"  For  citizen  General  Pichegru,"  he  said. 

"  Do  you  recognize  me  ?  "  asked  the  general. 

"  Immediately,  general." 

"Did  you  ever  see  me  before  ?" 

"  No,  but  my  father  has  described  you." 

During  this  time  Pichegru  had  opened  the  letter. 

"  What  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  are  you  the  son  of  my  worthy 
and  dear  friend  —  " 

The  boy  did  not  let  him  complete  his  sentence 

"Yes,  citizen  general,"  he  said. 

"  He  tells  me  he  gives  you  to  me." 

"  It  remains  to  be  seen  if  you  will  accept  the  gift." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  with  you  ?  " 


CHARLES'S    RECEPTION.  133 

"  What  yoii  please." 

"  I  can't,  in  conscience,  make  you  a  soldier  ;  you  are  too 
young  and  too  feeble." 

"  General,  I  did  not  expect  the  happiness  of  coming  to 
you  so  soon.  My  father  gave  me  a  letter  to  another  of  his 
friends,  who  was  to  keep  me  a  year  in  Strasbourg,  and  teach 
me  Greek." 

"  You  don't  mean  Euloge  Schneider  ?  "  said  Pichegru, 
laughing. 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  he  was  arrested  yesterday." 

"  By  whose  order  ?  " 

"  That  of  Saint-Just,  and  he  has  been  sent  to  the  Revolu- 
tionary tribunal  in  Paris." 

"  Then  you  may  say  good-bye  to  him  forever.  How  did 
that  happen  ?  " 

Charles  related  the  history  of  Mademoiselle  de  Brumpt. 
Pichegru  listened  with  the  utmost  interest. 

"  It  is  a  fact,"  he  said,  "  that  there  are  beings  who  dis- 
honor humanity.  Saint-Just  did  well.  And  you,  didn't 
you  get  into  any  scrape  about  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I,"  said  Charles,  quite  proud  of  being  the  hero  of 
an  adventure, —  "  I  was  in  prison  when  it  happened." 

"  In  prison  !  how  did  you  get  there  ?  " 

"I  was  arrested  the  night  before." 

"  They  've  taken  to  arresting  children  now  !  " 

"That's  just  what  made  Saint-Just  so  angry." 

"  But  why  were  you  arrested  ?  " 

"For  having  warned  two  deputies  from  Besançon  that 
they  ran  great  risks  by  stopping  in  Strasbourg." 

«Dumont  and  Ballu  ?  " 

"Exactly." 

"  They  are  at  my  headquarters  ;  you  shall  see  them." 

"I  thought  they  had  gone  back  to  Besançon." 

"  Half  way  there  they  thought  better  of  it.  Ha  !  so  it  is 
you  to  whom  they  probably  owe  their  heads." 


134  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

••  It  seems  I  did  wrong,'"  said  the  boy. 

'•'  Wrong  !  who  told  you  it  was  wrong  to  do  a  good  action 
and  save  your  neighbor's  life  ?  "' 

'•■  Saint-Just  ;  but  he  added  that  he  forgave  me  because 
pity  was  a  child's  virtue  ;  and  ihen  he  toki  me  a  story  about 
himself.  —  how  he  had  had  his  best  friend  shot  that 
morning."' 

Pichegru's  face  grew  dark. 

''That's  true,"'  he  said,  "the  deed  was  put  in  the  order  of 
the  day  to  the  army  ;  and  I  must  admit  that,  whatever  one 
may  think  of  the  deed  itself,  it  has  had  a  good  influence  on 
the  morale  of  the  troops.  God  forbid  that  I  should  be 
called  upon  to  give  a  like  example,  for,  and  I  say  it  openly, 
I  would  n"t  give  it  !  What  the  devil  1  we  are  Frenchmen, 
not  Spartans.  They  may  stick  a  mask  on  our  faces  for  a 
while,  but  the  mask  is  liable  to  be  pulled  off  any  time,  and 
the  face  is  the  same  :  a  few  wrinkles  more,  perhaps,  —  that 's 
all." 

"Well,  general,  to  come  back  to  my  father's  letter  —  " 

"You  are  to  stay  here  with  me.  I'll  appoint  you  secre- 
tary to  headquarters.     Can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  G-eneral,  not  very  well." 

"  You'll  learn.     Did  you  walk  here  ?  " 

"Yes,  from  Eohwillers." 

"And  from  Strasbourg  to  Eohwillers  ? " 

"  I  came  in  a  carriole  with  ^ladame  Teutch  —  " 

"  The  landlady  of  the  Lanterne  inn  ?  " 

"And  sergeant-major  Pierre  Augereau." 

"  How  the  devil  did  you  make  acquaintance  with  Pierre 
Augereau,  the  big  brute  ?  " 

'•  He  was  fencing-master  to  Eugène  Beauharnais." 

"  Son  of  General  Beauharnais  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"'  There 's  another  who  is  going  to  expiate  his  victories  on 
the  scaffold,"  said  Pichegru.  with  a  siçh.  •'■'  They  seem  to 
think  that  grape-shot  does  n't  work  fast  enough.  But,  my 
poor  boy,  you  must  be  dying  of  hunger." 


CHAELES'S   RECEPTION.  135 

"  Oh  !  as  for  that,  no,"  said  Charles  ;  ••'  I  have  just  seen  a 
sight  which  has  taken  my  appetite  away." 

"  What  did  you  see  ?  " 

"I  saw  a  poor  émigré  shot;  he  belonged  to  our  town,  and 
you  probably  know  him." 

"  The  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  They  gmllotined  his  father  eight  months  ago,  and  now 
they  've  shot  the  son  ;  there  are  two  brothers  left."  Pichegru 
shrugged  his  shoulders.  ••  They  had  better  have  shot  them 
all  together,  for  the  rest  will  go  the  same  way.  Did  you 
ever  see  any  one  guillotined  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Well,  to-morrow,  if  it  will  amuse  you,  you  can  give 
yourself  that  pleasure  ;  there  's  a  batch  of  twenty-eight  of 
all  kinds,  from  the  big  epaulets  down  to  grooms.  Xow, 
let 's  attend  to  your  quarters,  —  that 's  soon  done."  He 
showed  the  boy  a  mattress  on  the  floor.  •'•  There  's  my  bed," 
he  said,  "and  that,"  he  continued,  showing  another,  "be- 
longs to  citizen  Eeignac,  chief  secretary  to  headquarters." 

He  rang  a  bell  ;  an  orderly  appeared. 

"A  mattress,"  said  the  general. 

Five  minutes  later  the  orderly  returned,  bringing  a 
mattress.  Pichegru  pointed  to  the  place  where  he  was  to 
spread  it. 

"  There  's  yours."  he  said  to  Charles.  Then,  opening  a 
closet,  he  went  on  :  "  This  closet  shall  be  yours  ;  nobody 
else  will  put  anything  into  it,  and  don't  you  put  anything 
into  the  closets  of  other  people  ;  as  your  bundle  does  n't 
seem  very  large,  I  hope  it  will  be  big  enough.  If  you 
have  anything  valuable  keep  it  on  your  person,  that  *s 
safest, — not  that  you  risk  having  it  stolen,  but  you  risk 
forgetting  it  when  the  bugle  sounds  to  move  at  once  either 
forward  or  back." 

"General,"  said  the  lad.  ingenuously,  "I  had  nothing 
precious  but  my  father's  letter  to  you,  and  that  I  have, 
given  you." 


136  THE    FIKST    REPUBLIC. 

"  Then  kiss  me  ;  unpack  your  little  matters  ;  I  must  go 
back  to  my  map." 

He  turned  to  the  table,  and  as  he  did  so  he  saw  two  per- 
sons in  the  corridor. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  cried,  "  come  here,  citizen  Ballu  !  come  here, 
citizen  Dumont  !  I  want  you  to  make  acquaintance  with 
my  new  guest." 

He  showed  Charles  to  them  ;  but  as  neither  recognized  the 
boy,  he  said  :  — 

"  My  dear  compatriots,  thank  that  child  ;  it  was  he  who 
sent  you  the  warning  in  virtue  of  which  you  still  have  your 
heads  upon  your  shoulders." 

"  Charles  !  "  they  cried,  embracing  him  and  holding  him 
to  their  hearts,  "  our  wives  and  children  shall  know  your 
name,  to  love  and  bless  it." 

While  Charles  was  responding  as  best  he  could  to  these 
embraces,  a  young  man  of  twenty  to  twenty-two  years  of 
age  entered  the  room  and  asked  Pichegru  in  excellent  Latin 
if  he  would  give  him  an  interview. 

Pichegru,  surprised  at  this  style  of  address,  replied  in 
the  same  language  that  he  would  grant  the  request.  Open- 
ing the  door  of  a  little  room  beyond  the  larger  one,  he  made 
the  young  man  a  sign  to  enter  ;  then  he  followed  him,  and 
feeling  sure  that  his  visitor  had  some  important  communi- 
cation to  make,  he  closed  the  door  behind  him. 


THE   SPY.  137 


XIX. 


THE    SPY. 


PiCHEGRU  cast  a  rapid  and  investigating  glance  on  the  new- 
comer; but,  keen  and  perspicacious  as  the  glance  was,  it 
did  not  even  tell  him  with  certainty  to  what  nation  his 
visitor  belonged.  The  young  man's  dress  was  that  of  a 
poor  traveller  who  had  come  a  long  way  on  foot.  He  wore 
a  foxskin  cap  and  a  nondescript  garment  of  goatskin  passed 
over  his  head  like  a  blouse  and  fastened  round  the  waist  by 
a  leather  belt;  sleeves  of  a  striped  woollen  stuff  came  through 
openings  slit  in  this  cuirass,  the  hairy  side  of  which  was 
turned  next  the  person.  He  wore,  besides,  high  boots  com- 
ing above  the  knees,  with  soles  much  worn  by  travel.  In 
all  this  there  was  no  indication  of  nationality. 

And  yet  from  his  fair  hair,  his  light  blue  eye,  firm  to 
ferocity,  his  tow-colored  mustache,  his  strongly  marked 
chin,  and  the  size  of  his  jaw,  Pichegru  felt  certain  that 
his  visitor  belonged  to  one  of  the  Northern  races. 

The  young  man  let  himself  be  looked  at  in  silence,  and 
even  seemed  to  defy  the  general's  scrutiny. 

"  Hungarian  or  Kussian  ?  "  asked  Pichegru,  in  French. 

"  Pole,"  replied  the  young  man,  laconically,  in  the  same 
language. 

"  Exiled  ?  "  said  Pichegru. 

"  Worse." 

"  Poor  people  !  —  so  brave  and  so  unfortunate  !  "  The 
general  stretched  out  his  hand  to  his  visitor. 

"Wait,"  said  the  young  man,  "before  doing  me  that 
honor  you  ought  to  know  —  " 

"  All  Poles  are  brave  !  "  said  Pichegru  ;  "  every  exile  has 
a  right  to  grasp  the  hand  of  a  patriot." 

But  the  Pole  seemed  to  feel  a  certain  pride  in  not  accepting 
the  courtesy  until  he  had  shown  that  he  was  worthy  of  it. 


138  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

He  drew  a  small  leather  wallet  from  his  bosom,  such  as  the 
Neopolitans  use  to  carry  their  amulets,  opened  it,  and  took 
from  it  a  paper  folded  in  four. 

"  Do  you  know  Kosciusko  ?  "  he  asked.  And  his  eyes 
sent  forth  a  double  gleam. 

"  Who  does  not  know  the  hero  of  Dubienka  ?  "  exclaimed 
Pichegru. 

"Then  read  that,"  said  the  Pole,  giving  him  the  letter. 

Pichegru  took  it  and  read  :  — 

I  commend  to  all  men  struggling  for  the  freedom  and  independ- 
ence of  their  country  this  brave  man,  son  of  a  brave  man,  brother  of 
a  brave  man. 

He  was  with  me  at  Dubienka.  T.  Kosciusko. 

"  You  have  there  a  fine  diploma  of  courage,  monsieur," 
said  Pichegru  ;  "  will  you  do  me  the  honor  of  becoming  my 
aide-de-camp  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  do  you  good  service,  and  I  should  avenge 
myself  ill  ;  vengeance  is  what  I  seek." 

''  On  whom  do  you  seek  it,  —  Russians,  Austrians,  or 
Prussians  ?  " 

''  All  three,  since  they  all  oppress  and  ravage  unhappy 
Poland  ;  but  I  more  especially  hate  Prussia." 

"Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Dantzig  ;  I  am  of  that  old  Polish  race  which,  after 
losing  the  city  in  1308,  reconquered  it  in  1454,  and  defended 
it  against  Etienne  Battori  in  1575.  From  that  day  Dantzig 
has  held  a  Polish  party  always  ready  to  rise,  and  which 
did  rise  at  the  call  of  Kosciusko.  My  father,  my  brother, 
and  I,  seized  our  guns  at  the  first  appeal  and  placed  our- 
selves at  his  orders  ;  that  is  how  we  three  were  part  of  the 
four  thousand  men  who  defended  the  fort  of  Dubienka  for 
five  days  against  sixteen  thousand  Russians,  though  we  had 
but  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  fortify  it.  Some  time 
after  that  Stanislas  yielded  to  Catherine's  will  Kosciusko, 
unwilling  to  be  the  accomplice  of  the  Czarina's  paramour, 
resigned,  and  my  father  and  brother  and   I   returned  to 


THE   SPY.  139 

Dantzig,  where  I  finished  my  studies.  One  morning  we 
heard  that  Dantzig  was  ceded  to  the  Prussians.  Two  or 
three  thousand  patriots  —  we  were  among  them  —  protested 
with  one  hand  and  grasped  their  guns  with  the  other.  This 
partitioning  of  our  country,  our  dear  dismembered  Poland, 
seemed  to  us  to  call  for  protestation,  —  first,  moral  protesta- 
tion, and  when  that  failed,  material  protestation,  the 
protest  of  blood,  with  which  from  time  to  time  the  national- 
ities must  be  sprinkled  lest  they  die.  We  went  to  meet 
the  Prussian  battalions  who  were  sent  to  take  the  town. 
They  were  ten  thousand  strong  ;  we  were  eighteen  hundred. 
A  thousand  of  us  remained  on  the  battle-field.  During  the 
three  next  days  three  hundred  more  died  of  their  wounds. 
Five  hundred  were  left  prisoners.  All  were  equally  guilty, 
but  our  enemies  were  generous  !  They  divided  us  into 
three  lots.  The  first  had  the  privilege  of  being  shot.  The 
second  were  hanged.  The  third  received  fifty  blows  of  the 
knout,  and  their  lives  were  given  to  them.  We  were 
divided  according  to  our  strength.  Those  worst  wounded 
were  shot.  Those  slightly  wounded  were  hanged.  The  well 
men  had  the  knout,  so  that  they  might  bear  in  mind  all 
their  lives  the  punishment  merited  by  ungrateful  men  who 
refused  to  throw  themselves  into  Prussia's  open  arms.  My 
dying  father  was  shot.  My  brother,  who  had  only  a  broken 
thigh,  was  hung.  I,  who  had  a  mere  scratch  on  the  shoulder, 
was  flogged.  At  the  fortieth  blow  I  fainted.  But  my 
torturers  were  conscientious  ;  though  I  could  not  feel  the 
blows  they  completed  the  number,  and  left  me  lying  on 
the  place  of  execution  without  taking  farther  notice  of  me. 
My  sentence  was  that  after  receiving  the  fifty  blows  I 
was  free." 

He  paused,  collecting  himself. 

"  Pree  !  "  he  went  on.  "  The  executions  took  place  in  one 
of  the  courtyards  of  the  citadel.  When  I  came  to  myself 
it  was  night.  I  saw  a  number  of  inanimate  bodies  which 
looked  like  corpses,  but  which,  like  me  a  moment  earlier, 
were  probably  in  a  swoon.     I  found  my  clothes,  but,  with 


140  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

the  exception  of  my  shirt  I  could  not  put  them  on  my 
bloody,  stiffened  shoulders.  I  threw  them  over  my  arm 
and  looked  about  me.  A  light  was  burning  not  far  off  ;  I 
thought  it  was  that  of  the  gate-keeper,  and  I  went  toward 
it.  He  was  standing  by  the  wicket-door.  '  Your  name  ?  ' 
he  asked.  I  told  him.  He  consulted  a  list.  '  Here  is  your 
pass,'  he  said,  giving  me  a  paper.  I  looked  at  it  ;  it  bore 
the  words  '  Good  to  the  frontier.'  '  Can  I  return  to  Dant- 
zic  ?  '  I  asked.  '  On  pain  of  death,'  he  replied.  I  thought 
of  my  mother,  twice  a  widow,  widowed  of  her  husband, 
widowed  of  her  son  ;  I  gave  a  sigh  and  commended  her  to 
God." 

His  voice  shook  for  a  moment,  then  he  went  on,  coldly  : 
"  I  went  my  way.  I  had  no  mone}' .  Fortunately,  in  a 
secret  part  of  my  wallet  I  had  kept  the  line  which  Kos- 
ciusko gave  to  me  at  parting — you  have  it  in  your  hand. 
I  took  the  road  to  Custrin,  Francfort,  and  Leipzig.  Like 
sailors  who  watch  the  polar  star  to  guide  themselves,  I 
looked  on  the  far  horizon  for  France,  the  beacon-light  of 
liberty,  and  I  made  my  way  to  her.  Six  weeks  of  hunger, 
weariness,  misery,  humiliation,  were  all  forgotten  when,  two 
days  ago,  I  stood  upon  the  holy  groiind  of  independence  ; 
yes,  all  was  forgotten,  all  —  except  vengeance.  I  flung 
myself  upon  my  knees  and  I  blessed  God  that  1  felt  as 
powerful  as  the  crime  by  which  I  had  suffered.  When  I 
saw  your  soldiers,  I  saw  brothers,  marching,  not  to  the 
conquest  of  the  world,  but  to  the  deliverance  of  the 
oppressed  peoples.  They  bore  a  flag  ;  I  sprang  to  it,  and 
begged  the  ofiicer  to  let  me  kiss  that  sacred  rag,  the  symbol 
of  universal  brotherhood.  He  hesitated.  '  Ah  !  '  I  cried,  '  I 
am  a  Pole,  an  exile,  I  have  walked  nine  hundred  miles  to 
join  you.  That  flag  is  my  flag.  I  have  a  right  to  press  it 
to  my  lips  and  to  my  heart.'  Then,  almost  by  force,  I 
seized  it  and  kissed  it,  crying  out,  '  Be  ever  pure,  resplen- 
dent, glorious,  flag  of  the  destroyers  of  the  Bastille,  flag  of 
Valmy,  of  Jemmapes,  of  Bercheim  !  '  Oh  !  general,  in 
that  moment  I  felt  no  weariness;  I  forgot   my   tortured 


THE    SPY.  141 

shoulders  and  the  shameful  stick,  I  forgot  my  brother  on 
his  infamous  gibbet,  my  dying  father  shot!  all,  I  forgot  all, 
even  vengeance  !  To-day  I  come  to  you.  I  am  well 
taught  in  scientific  matters  ;  I  speak  five  languages  as  well 
as  French.  I  can  make  myself  a  German,  Russian,  English- 
man, or  Frenchman,  at  will.  I  can  enter  any  town  in 
disguise,  any  fortress,  all  headquarters.  I  can  bring  you 
information  of  everything  ;  I  can  draw  plans  ;  no  material 
obstacle  can  hinder  me.  A  dozen  times,  when  a  child,  I 
swam  the  Vistula.  In  short,  I  tell  you  I  am  no  longer  a 
man,  I  am  a  thing  ;  my  name  is  no  longer  Stephan 
Moinjski,  it  is  Vengeance  !  " 

"  You  wish  to  be  a  spy  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"  Do  you  call  it  spying  to  be  a  man  without  fear,  wishing 
by  his  intelligence  to  do  the  utmost  evil  to  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  wish  to  be  a  spy." 

"You  risk  being  shot  if  j^ou  are  taken." 

"  Like  my  father." 

"Or  hung." 

"Like  my  brother." 

"  The  least  that  could  happen  to  you  is  to  be  flogged,  and 
you  know  what  that  is." 

With  a  rapid  movement  Stephan  flung  off  his  goatskin 
garment,  pulled  down  his  shirt,  and  showed  his  back, 
covered  with  livid  furrows. 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  that  is,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh. 

"Remember  that  I  offer  you  a  rank  in  the  army  as 
lieutenant,  or  I  will  keep  you  by  me  as  my  interpreting 
officer." 

"And  you,  citizen  general,  remember  that  feeling  myself 
too  degraded  to  accept,  I  refuse  your  offer.  When  they 
condemned  me  to  that  punishment,  they  made  me  lower 
than  a  man.      I  will  strike  at  them  from  below." 

"  Well,  so  be  it.    What  do  you  wish  of  me  ?  " 

"Enough  money  to  get  some  clothes,  and  your  com- 
mands." 


142  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Pichegru  stretched  out  his  hand  and  took  from  a  chair 
a  bunch  of  assignats  and  a  pair  of  scissors.  It  was  his 
monthly  sum  for  all  his  war  expenses.  The  month  was  not 
half  gone,  but  the  bunch  was  enormously  reduced.  He  cut 
otf  three  days'  pay,  —  that  is  to  say,  four  hundred  and  fifty 
francs,  —  and  gave  them  to  the  Pole. 

"  Buy  yourself  clothes  with  that,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  a  great  deal  too  much,"  said  the  young  man  ;  "  I 
only  want  peasant's  clothes." 

"Perhaps  from  day  to  day  you'll  have  to  change  your 
disguise." 

"  Very  good.    Your  orders,  general  ?  " 

"Listen  to  me  attentively,"  said  Pichegru,  laying  his 
hand  on  the  man's  shoulder. 

The  young  man  listened  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Pichegru. 
It  almost  seemed  as  though  hearing  were  not  enough,  that 
he  wanted  to  see  the  words. 

"I  am  notified,"  continued  Pichegru,  "that  the  Army  of  the 
Moselle,  commanded  by  Heche,  is  to  make  a  junction  with 
mine.  That  junction  made,  we  shall  attack  Wœrth,  Frœsch- 
willer,  and  Reichsoffen.  Well,  I  want  to  know  the  number 
of  men  and  cannon  defending  those  three  places,  also  the 
best  positions  from  which  to  attack  them.  You  will  find 
the  hatred  of  our  Alsatian  peasantry  and  bourgeoisie  to  the 
Prussians  a  help  to  you." 

"  Am  I  to  report  here  ?  Shall  you  wait  for  information, 
or  do  you  start  to  meet  the  Army  of  the  Moselle  ?  " 

"  In  the  course  of  three  or  four  days  you  will  probably 
hear  cannon  in  the  direction  of  Marschwiller,  Dawendorff, 
or  Uberack.     Join  me  wherever  I  happen  to  be." 

At  that  moment  the  door  of  the  large  room  opened,  and 
a  young  man  in  a  colonel's  uniform  came  in.  By  his  fair 
hair  and  mustache  and  his  rosy  cheeks  it  was  easy  to  recog- 
nize one  of  the  many  Irishmen  who  took  service  in  France, 
and  were  all  the  more  numerous  because  we  were  fighting 
England. 

"  Ah,  it  is  you,  my  dear  Macdonald  !  "    said  Pichegru, 


THE   SPY.  143 

making  the  young  Pole  a  sign.  "I  was  just  going  to 
send  for  you.  Here 's  one  of  your  Scotch  or  English 
compatriots." 

"  Neither  the  Scotch  nor  the  English  are  my  compatriots, 
general,"  said  Macdonald.     "I  am  Irish." 

"I  beg  pardon,  colonel,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing;  "1 
didn't  mean  to  affront  you;  I  merely  wished  to  say,  that, 
as  he  can't  speak  anything  but  English,  and  I  can  hardly 
speak  it  all,  I  would  like  to  know  what  he  wants." 

"  Nothing  easier,"  said  Macdonald. 

Then,  addressing  the  young  man,  he  asked  him  several 
questions,  to  which  the  latter  replied  instantly  and  without 
the  slightest  hesitation. 

"  Does  he  tell  you  what  he  wants  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"Yes,"  said  Macdonald,  "he  wants  a  place  with  either 
the  teamsters  or  the  commissariat." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Pichegru  to  the  Pole,  "  as  that  is  all  I 
want  to  know,  you  can  go  about  your  business  now,  and 
don't  forget  what  I  told  you.  Translate  that  to  him,  will 
you,  my  dear  Macdonald,  and  oblige  me  very  much." 

Macdonald  repeated,  word  for  word,  in  English  what 
the  general  said.  The  young  man  bowed  and  left  the 
room. 

"  What  sort  of  English  does  he  speak  ?  "  said  Pichegru. 

"Very  good,"  replied  Macdonald;  "  he  has  a  little  accent 
which  makes  me  think  he  was  n't  born  either  in  London  or 
Dublin,  but  in  the  counties.  But  you  would  have  to  be  an 
Englishman  or  an  Irishman  to  notice  it." 

"  That 's  all  I  want  to  know,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing. 

And  he  returned  to  the  large  room,  followed  by  Mac- 
donald. 


144  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

XX. 

A    DYING    PROPHECY. 

Nearly  all  the  officers  on  Picliegru's  staff  were  absent 
either  on  missions  or  reconnoitring  when  Charles  arrived  at 
headquarters.  The  following  day,  however,  orders  having 
been  given  for  an  approaching  departure,  all  were  flocking 
in  from  their  errands,  and  the  breakfast  table  was  full. 

At  that  table,  besides  Colonel  Macdonald,  whom  we  have 
already  seen,  there  were  four  brigade  generals,  —  citizens 
Lieber,  Boursier,  Michaux,  and  Hermann  ;  two  of  the  staff 
officers, -— citizens  Gaume  and  Chaumette  ;  and  two  aides- 
de-camp,  —  citizens  Doumerc  and  Abattucci.  Doumerc  was 
a  cavalry  captain.  He  was  perhaps  twenty-two  or  twenty- 
three  years  of  age  ;  born  in  the  neighborhood  of  Toulouse  ; 
and  physically  one  of  the  handsomest  men  in  the  army. 
As  for  courage,  he  lived  at  an  epoch  when  it  was  not  even 
a  merit  to  be  brave.  He  was,  besides,  a  charmingly  witty 
talker,  and  he  brightened  the  calm,  but  rather  cold,  serenity 
of  Pichegru,  who  seldom  took  part  in  the  conversations, 
and  smiled  as  it  were  with  his  soul  only. 

As  for  Abattucci,  he  was  a  Corsican.  Sent  at  sixteen 
years  of  age  to  the  military  school  at  Metz,  he  became  a 
lieutenant  of  artillery  in  1789,  and  captain  in  1792.  With 
that  rank  he  was  now  serving  as  aide-de-camp  to  Pichegru. 
He,  too,  was  a  handsome  young  man  of  twenty-three,  bold 
and  intrepid  under  any  test.  He  was  lithe,  agile,  and 
vigorous,  with  a  bronzed  skin  which  gave  his  Grecian  form 
of  beauty  a  numismatic  character  contrasting  strangely  with 
his  ingenuous,  open-hearted,  almost  juvenile,  ga,yety,  which 
was,  however,  rather  devoid  of  imagination  or  brilliancy. 

Nothing  could  well  be  gayer  than  the  meals  of  these 
young  fellows,  though  the  food  on  the  table  was  somewhat 
Spartan.     Sorrow  to  those  who  (delayed  by  skirmishings  of 


A   DYING   PROPHECY.  145 

love  or  war)  arrived  too  late.  Empty  bottles  and  cleared 
dishes  were  then  their  portion  ;  and  they  ate  their  dry 
bread  amid  the  laughs  and  jokes  of  their  comrades.  Only, 
there  was  never  a  week  that  one  place  at  least  was  not 
vacant.  The  general  would  notice  it,  frowning,  and  then 
with  a  gesture  order  the  knife  and  fork  of  the  absent  one 
removed.  The  absent  one  had  died  for  his  country  ;  they 
drank  to  his  health,  and  all  was  said.  There  was  some- 
thing of  sovereign  grandeur  in  this  carelessness  of  life,  even 
to  the  rapid  forgetfulness  of  death. 

The  matter  that  filled  the  minds  of  all  these  young 
men  just  now,  almost  as  much  as  the  scenes  in  which 
they  themselves  were  actors,  was  the  infinitely  important 
subject  of  the  siege  of  Toulon.  Toulon,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, had  been  surrendered  to  the  English  by  Admiral 
Trogoff,  whose  name  we  regret  not  to  find  in  any  dic- 
tionary: the  names  of  traitors  ought  to  be  preserved. 
Monsieur  Thiers,  out  of  patriotism,  no  doubt,  calls  him 
a  Russian.     Alas  !  he  was  a  Breton. 

The  last  news  had  not  been  reassuring,  and  the  younger 
ofiicers,  particularly  those  of  the  artillery,  had  laughed 
heartily  at  General  Carteaux's  plan,  which  was  given  in 
the  three  following  lines  :  — 

"  The  commander-in-chief  of  the  artillery  will  bombard  Toulon 
for  three  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time  I  shall  attack  with  four 
columns,  and  carry  the  place." 

Next  the  news  arrived  that  General  Dugommier  had 
superseded  Carteaux  ;  he  certainly  inspired  rather  more 
confidence,  but  having  arrived  onh-  two  years  earlier  from 
Martinique,  and  being  lately  made  a  general,  he  was  com- 
paratively unknown.  The  last  news  received  was  that  the 
siege  was  begun  according  to  the  scientific  rules  of  war, 
that  the  artillery  especially,  commanded  by  a  competent 
officer,  was  doing  good  service.  The  consequence  was  that 
the  arrival  of  the  "Moniteur,"  was  looked  for  with  the 
greatest  impatience. 

VOL.    I. — 10 


146  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

It  arrived  toward  the  end  of  breakfast.  The  general 
took  it  from  the  hands  of  the  orderly,  and  speaking  across 
the  table  to  Charles,  he  said  :  — 

"  Here,  citizen  secretary,  this  is  part  of  your  business  j 
find  what  there  is  about  Toulon." 

Charles  colored  to  the  eyes,  turned  over  the  pages,  and 
came  upon  these  words  :  — 

Letter  from  General  Dugommier,  dated  from  headquarters  at 
OUioules,  lOtk  Frimaire,  year  II. 

Citizen  Minister,  —  The  day  has  been  a  hot  one,  but  successful. 
For  forty-eight  hours  an  important  battery  had  kept  its  fire 
on  Malbousquet,  and  greatly  annoyed  that  post  and  its  neighbor- 
hood. This  morning  at  five  o'clock  the  enemy  made  a  vigorous 
sortie,  which  enabled  him  to  master,  for  a  short  time,  our  pickets 
and  the  left  of  the  battery  ;  at  the  first  shots,  we  moved  rapidly  on 
our  left  wing. 

I  found  our  troops  retreating;  General  Garnier  was  complaining 
that  his  men  abandoned  him.  I  ordered  him  to  rally  them,  and  go 
to  the  support  of  the  battery.  I  then  put  myself  at  the  head  of  the 
third  battalion  of  the  Isère,  and  took  another  road  to  the  sane 
battery.  We  were  fortunate  enough  to  succeed  ;  the  post  was  re- 
taken ;  the  enemy,  vigorously  repulsed,  retreated  on  all  sides,  leaving 
a  great  number  of  dead  and  wounded  on  the  field.  This  sortie  cost 
them  more  than  twelve  hundred  men,  killed,  wounded,  and  taken 
prisoners,  —  among  the  latter  several  officers  of  rank,  —  and  their 
commander-in-chief  O'Hara,  wounded  in  the  left  arm. 

The  generals  in  command  on  both  sides  were  fated  to  be  hit  in 
this  action  ;  for  I  received  two  contusions,  one  on  the  right  arm, 
the  other  on  the  shotilder  ;  but  tliey  are  slight.  After  vigorously 
driving  back  the  enemy  whence  he  came,  our  republicans,  with 
a  gallant  though  rather  disorderly  dash,  marched  toward  Mal- 
bousquet under  a  murderous  fire  from  the  fort.  They  carried 
off  the  tents  of  a  camp  they  forced  the  enemy  by  their  valor  to 
evacuate.  This  action,  which  is  truly  a  triumph  for  the  Republican 
arras,  is  an  excellent  augury  for  our  future  operations;  for  if  we 
have  been  able  to  do  so  well  unexpectedly,  what  may  we  not  do 
with  a  well-concerted  plan  ? 

I  cannot  too  highlj'  praise  the  good  conduct  of  all  our  brothers-in- 
arms who  took  part  in  this  affair.     Among  the  most  distinguished 


1 


A   DYING   PROPHECY.  147 

who  helped  to  rally  our  men  and  push  onward  were  the  citizens 
Buona  Parte,  commanding  the  artillery,  and  Arena  and  Cervoni, 
adjutant-generals. 

DuGOMMiEK,   Commander-in-chief. 

"  Buona  Parte,"  said  Picliegru,  "  that  must  be  a  young 
Corsican  to  whom  I  was  tutor  ;  he  had  a  great  turn  then 
for  mathematics." 

"Yes,"  said  Abattucci,  "  there  is  now  in  Ajaccio  a  family 
named  Buonaparte,  the  head  of  which,  Charles  de  Buona- 
parte, was  aide-de-camp  to  Faoli  ;  they  are  rather  near 
cousins  of  mine,  those  Buonapartes." 

"  Confound  it  !  you  are  all  cousins  in  Corsica,"  said 
Doumerc. 

"  If  it  is  my  Buonaparte,"  said  Pichegru,  "  he  must  be  a 
young  man  about  five  feet  one,  or  two,  not  more,  with 
straight  hair  plastered  down  his  temples,  who  didn't  know 
a  word  of  French  when  he  came  to  Brienne;  rather  misan- 
thropic, very  solitary,  deeply  opposed  to  the  union  of 
Corsica  and  France,  great  admirer  of  Paoli  ;  a  fellow  who  in 
two  or  three  years  learned  of  Père  Patrault  —  B}^  the  bye, 
Charles,  the  same  who  protected  and  helped  your  friend 
Euloge  Schneider  —  Well,  he  learned  of  Père  Patrault  all 
he  knew,  and  consequently  all  he  could  teach." 

"  Only,"  continued  Abattucci,  "  the  name  is  not  written 
as  it  is  in  the  '  Moniteur,'  which  cuts  it  in  two.  It  is  in  one 
word,  —  Buonaparte." 

The  conversation  was  at  this  point  when  a  loud  uproar 
was  heard,  and  a  crowd  of  persons  were  seen  to  be  hurrying 
along  the  rue  de  Strasbourg.  They  were  so  near  the  enemy 
that  a  surprise  might  be  expected  at  any  moment.  Each 
man  jumped  for  his  sabre.  Doumerc,  who  was  nearest  the 
window,  jumped  not  only  for  his  sabre,  but  into  the  street, 
and  ran  to  the  turn,  whence  he  could  see  what  was  happen- 
ning  up  and  down  the  rue  de  Strasbourg.  He  made  a  sign 
"with  his  head  and  shoulders  indicative  of  disappointment, 
and  walked  slowly  back  to  headquarters. 


148  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  asked  Picliegru. 

"Nothing,  general;  only  that  unfortunate  Eisemberg  and 
his  staff,  whom  they  are  going  to  guillotine." 

"Why  don't  they  go  straight  to  the  citadel?"  said 
Pichegru  ;  "  hitherto  they  have  spared  us  these  sights." 

"  True,  general  ;  but  now,  they  say,  they  are  determined 
to  strike  a  blow  which  shall  echo  to  the  heart  of  the  army. 
The  massacre  of  a  general  and  his  staff  is  so  good  an  exam- 
ple to  another  general  and  his  staff  that  they  think  proper 
to  give  you,  and  iis,  the  honor  of  seeing  this  instructive 
spectacle." 

"  But,"  ventured  Charles,  timidly,  "  those  are  not  cries  I 
hear  ;  it  is  laughter." 

A  soldier  passed  the  windows  coming  from  the  direction 
of  the  procession  ;  the  general  knew  him  as  belonging  to 
his  own  village  of  Arbois.  He  was  a  chasseur  of  the  eighth 
regiment,  named  Falou.  » 

Pichegru  called  him  by  name.  The  man  stopped  short, 
looked  to  see  where  the  voice  came  from,  wheeled  round  to 
face  the  general,  and  carried  his  hand  to  his  kepi. 

"Come  here  !  "  said  the  general. 

The  chasseur  approached. 

"  What  are  they  laughing  about  ?  "  demanded  Pichegru  ; 
"  are  the  populace  insulting  the  condemned  men  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  general,  they  pity  them." 

"Then  what's  the  meaning  of  all  that  laughter  ?  " 

"It  isn't  their  fault,  general;  he'd  make  a  tombstone 
laugh,  he  would." 

"  Who  would  ?  " 

"  Surgeon  Figeac,  whom  they  are  going  to  guillotine  ;  he 
has  said  such  droll  things  from  that  cart  that  even  the 
condemned  men  are  shaking  with  laughter." 

The  general  and  his  staff  looked  at  each  other. 

"  I  think  the  moment  is  very  ill-chosen  for  gayety,"  said 
Pichegru. 

"  It  seems  he  finds  a  laughable  side  to  death." 

At  this  moment,  the  head  of  the  funereal  procession  caïùé 


A   DYING   PROPHECY.  149 

in  sight,  and  it  seemed  to  be  convulsed  with  laughter,  — not 
insulting  and  savage,  but  natural  and  even  sympathetic 
laughter.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  an  enormous  cart 
appeared,  which  contained  twenty-two  men  condemned  to 
death  and  bound  together  in  pairs.  Pichegru  stepped  back  ; 
but  Eisemberg  called  to  him  in  a  loud  voice,  by  name. 

Pichegru  stood  motionless.  Figeac,  seeing  that  Eisemberg 
wished  to  speak,  was  silent.  The  laughter  ceased.  Eisem- 
berg pushed  his  way  to  the  side  of  the  cart,  dragging  with 
him  the  man  to  whom  he  was  fastened. 

"  Pichegru  !  "  he  said,  "  stand  there  and  listen  to  me." 

Those  of  the  young  men  who  were  w^earing  their  hats  or 
fatigue  caps  took  them  off.  Falou  stood  close  beside  the 
window  with  his  hand  to  his  kepi. 

"  Pichegru,*'  said  the  unfortunate  general,  "  I  go  to  my 
death,  and  leave  you  with  pleasure  at  the  summit  of  the 
honors  to  wliich  your  courage  has  borne  you.  I  know  that 
your  heart  does  justice  to  my  loyalty,  betrayed  by  the  fate 
of  war,  and  that  you  have  secretly  pitied  my  misfortunes. 
I  wish  I  could  predict  to  you  at  parting  a  better  fate  than 
mine  ;  but  keep  yourself  from  that  hope.  Houchard  and 
Custine  are  dead,  I  am  about  to  die,  Beauharnais  is  to  die  ; 
you  will  die  like  the  rest  of  us.  The  Nation,  to  whom  you 
devote  your  strength,  is  not  sparing  of  the  blood  of  her 
defenders,  and  if  the  weapons  of  the  enemy  miss  you,  you 
will  not  escape  the  knife  of  the  executioner.  Farewell, 
Pichegru  ;  Heaven  keep  you  from  the  jealousy  of  tyrants  and 
the  justice  of  assassins  !  adieu,  friend.     Forward,  march  !  " 

Pichegru  waved  his  hand  to  him,  closed  the  window,  and 
returned  into  the  room,  his  arms  crossed,  his  head  bowed, 
as  though  the  words  of  Eisemberg  were  a  weight  laid  upon 
it.  Then  suddenly  he  threw  it  up  and  addressed  the  young 
men,  who  were  silently  and  thoughtfully  looking  at  him. 

"Which  of  you  knows  Greek  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  '11  give  my 
handsomest  Cummer  pipe  to  whoever  will  tell  me  the 
name  of  the  Greek  author  who  speaks  of  the  prophecies  of 
dying  men." 


150  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"  I  know  a  little  Greek,  general,"  said  Charles,  "  but  I 
don't  smoke." 

"  Never  mind  that,  I  '11  give  you  something  you  '11  like 
better  than  a  pipe." 

"  Very  well,  then  ;  it  is  Aristophanes,"  replied  Charles, 
"  in  a  passage  something  like  this  :  *  Dying  baldheads  have 
the  souls  of  sibyls.'  " 

"  Bravo  !  "  said  Pichegru,  stroking  the  lad's  cheek  ; 
"  to-morrow,  or  later,  you  shall  have  what  I  promised  you." 
Then  turning  to  his  aides-de-camp  and  the  officers  of  ord- 
nance he  said,  "Come,  my  sons,  I  am  sick  of  staying  in 
Auenheim  and  witnessing  these  butcheries.  We  '11  be  oft" 
in  two  hours  and  try  to  carry  our  advanced  posts  as  far  as 
Drusenheim.  Death  is  a  small  matter  anywhere,  but  it  is  a 
pleasure  on  the  battle-field.     Let  us  fight  !  " 

At  that  instant  a  dispatch  from  the  government  was  placed 
in  Pichegru's  hands.  It  was  the  order  to  make  his  junction 
with  the  army  of  the  Moselle  and  to  regard  Hoche,  who 
commanded  that  arni}^,  as  his  superior.  The  two  armies, 
the  junction  being  made,  were  not  to  give  the  enemy  any 
rest  until  they  had  recovered  the  lines  of  Weissembourg. 

There  was  nothing  to  change  in  the  orders  already  given, 
and  Pichegru  put  the  dispatch  in  his  pocket.  Knowing 
that  the  spy  Stephan  was  waiting  in  the  inner  room  for  his 
last  instructions,  he  went  there,  saying  :  — 

"Citizens,  hold  yourselves  ready  to  start  at  the  first 
flourish  of  trumpets  and  the  first  roll  of  the  drum," 


THE   DAY   BEFORE    THE    FIGHT.  151 


XXI. 

THB  DAY  BEFORE  THE  FIGHT. 

What  Picliegru  proposed  to  do  was  to  regain  the  ground 
lost  by  his  predecessor  in  the  battle  of  Hageuau,  which 
followed  the  evacuation  of  the  lines  of  Weissembourg.  It 
was  then  that  General  Carles  had  been  forced  to  bring  his 
headquarters  across  the  river,  from  Souffel  to  Schiltigheim, 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  gates  of  Strasbourg.  It  was  then  that 
Pichegru,  chosen  on  account  of  his  plebeian  birth,  had 
succeeded  to  the  command,  and  after  a  few  fortunate  move- 
ments had  been  able  to  take  his  headquarters  as  far  as 
Auenheim.  For  the  same  reason  of  plebeian  birth,  Hoche 
was  appointed  to  the  Army  of  the  Moselle,  and  he  had 
been  directed  to  combine  his  movements  with  those  of 
Pichegru. 

The  first  battle  of  any  importance  which  Pichegru  fought 
was  that  of  Bercheim  ;  it  was  there  that  the  Comte  de 
Sainte-Hermine  was  taken  prisoner,  in  consequence  of  his 
horse  being  killed  under  him.  The  Prince  de  Condé's  head- 
quarters were  at  Bercheim,  and  Pichegru,  being  desirous 
of  feeling  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  had  attacked  the 
position,  all  the  while  avoiding  a  general  engagement. 
Repulsed  at  first,  he  returned  to  the  attack  the  next  day, 
sending  against  the  Prince  de  Condé  a  regiment  of  sharp- 
shooters divided  into  small  squads.  These  troops,  after 
harassing  the  enemy  for  a  long  time,  suddenly,  at  a  given 
signal,  came  together,  and,  forming  into  a  column,  fell  upon 
the  village  of  Bercheim  and  took  it.  But  fights  between 
Frenchmen  do  not  end  so  easily.  The  Prince  de  Condé 
held  his  ground  behind  the  villages  with  his  noble  battal- 
ions of  infantry.  He  himself  sprang  forward  at  their  head, 
attacked  the  republicans,  and  retook  the  village.     Pichegru 


152  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

then  sent  his  cavalry  to  the  support  of  the  sharp-shooters  j 
the  prince  ordered  his  to  charge,  and  the  two  corps  came 
together  with  all  the  violence  of  hatred.  The  advantage 
remained  with  the  royalist  cavalry,  which  was  better 
mounted  than  ours  ;  the  republicans  fell  back,  leaving 
seven  cannon  and  nine  hundred  dead  behind  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  royalists  lost  three  hundred 
cavalry  and  nine  hundred  infantry.  The  Due  de  Bourbon, 
son  of  the  Prince  de  Condé,  was  struck  by  a  ball  at  the 
moment  he  was  attacking  Bercheim  at  the  head  of  his 
cavalry,  and  his  aides-de-camp  were  all  either  killed  or 
dangerously  wounded.  But  Pichegru  did  not  consider 
himself  beaten.  The  next  day  he  attacked  the  troops  of 
General  Klenau,  who  occupied  the  posts  beyond  Bercheim. 
The  enemy  fell  back  at  the  first  onset  ;  but  the  Prince  de 
Condé  sent  them  reinforcements  of  cavalry  and  infantry. 
The  battle  was  then  renewed  with  great  violence  and  con- 
tinued for  some  time  without  advantage  on  either  side  ; 
until  at  last  the  royalists  retreated  a  second  time,  and  the 
republicans  occupied  the  ground  ;  the  Austrians  withdrew 
behind  Hagenau,  the  corps  of  the  French  émigrés  remaining 
uncovered.  The  Prince  de  Condé,  feeling  it  imprudent  to 
maintain  the  position,  retired  in  good  order,  and  the  repub- 
licans entered  Bercheim  behind  him. 

The  news  of  this  success  arrived  in  Paris  at  the  same 
time  as  that  of  the  first  check  ;  the  impression  of  the  one 
effaced  that  of  the  other.  Pichegru  breathed  freer  ;  the 
iron  belt  that  was  stifling  Strasbourg  was  loosened  slightly. 
On  the  present  occasion,  as  Pichegru  said  himself,  it  was 
more  to  get  away  from  Auenheim  than  to  accomplish  any 
strategic  movement  that  he  now  took  the  field.  Still,  as 
Hagenau  was  in  possession  of  the  Austrians,  it  had  to  be 
recovered  some  day  or  other,  and  Pichegru  decided  to 
attack  the  village  of  Dawendorff,  which  was  on  his  way. 

A  forest  in  the  shape  of  a  horseshoe  extends  from 
Auenheim  to  Dawendorff.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening- 
of  a  fine  winter  night,  Pichegru  gave  the  order  to  start. 


THE   DAY   BEFORE   THE   FIGHT,  153 

Charles,  without  being  a  good  horseman,  could  ride  a  horse. 
The  general  put  him  with  fatherly  care  among  his  staff, 
and  requested  the  officers  to  look  after  him.  The  march 
was  made  in  silence,  the  object  being  to  surprise  the 
enemy.  The  battalion  of  the  Indre  formed  the  advanced 
guard.  Pichegru  had  ordered  the  wood  reconnoitred  the 
previous  evening,  and  it  was  reported  to  be  unguarded.  At 
two  in  the  morning  they  reached  the  lower  end  of  the 
horse-shoe,  where  a  tract  of  forest  about  three  miles  broad 
separated  them  from  the  village  of  Dawendorff.  Here 
Pichegru  called  a  halt,  and  ordered  the  troops  to  bivouac. 
It  was  impossible  to  leave  the  men  without  fires  on  such  a 
night.  At  the  risk,  therefore,  of  being  discovered  he 
allowed  the  men  to  light  fires  of  logs,  around  which  they 
grouped  themselves.  In  any  case,  however,  they  had  but 
four  hours  to  remain  there. 

During  the  whole  march,  Pichegru  had  had  his  eye  on 
Charles,  to  whom  he  had  given  a  trumpeter's  horse,  with  a 
saddle  raised  before  and  behind  and  covered  with  a  sheep- 
skin shabrack,  which  secured  the  seat  of  even  the  worst  horse- 
man ;  but  he  saw  with  satisfaction  that  his  young  secretary 
had  sprung  into  his  seat  without  difficulty,  and  was  man- 
aging his  horse  with  a  certain  ease.  When  they  arrived  at 
the  camping  ground  Charles  taught  himself  how  to  unsaddle 
his  horse,  how  to  picket  the  animal,  and  then  make  a  pillow 
of  the  saddle. 

A  large  cavalry  cloak,  which  the  general  had  taken  care 
to  have  strapped  to  the  crupper,  served  the  boy  for  mattress 
and  coverlet  both.  Charles,  who  continued  religious  through 
the  whole  of  this  irreligious  epoch,  said  his  prayers  silently, 
and  went  to  sleep  with  the  same  juvenile  peace  of  mind 
that  he  felt  in  his  bedroom  at  Besançon. 

The  advanced  posts,  placed  in  the  wood,  and  the  sentries 
on  their  flanks  (relieved  every  half-hour)  watched  over  the 
safety  of  the  little  army.  Toward  four  o'clock  a  shot  fired 
by  one  of  the  sentinels  was  heard  ;  every  one  was  afoot 
instantly.      Pichegru  glanced    at   Charles  ;    the   boy   had 


154  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

pulled  tlie  pistols  from  his  holsters  and  was  standing 
bravely  to  the  right  of  the  general,  a  pistol  in  each  hand. 

The  general  sent  a  score  of  men  to  the  spot  whence  the 
sound  came;  the  sentry  not  having  fallen  back,  it  was 
probable  he  was  killed.  But  on  running  to  the  post  where 
the  man  was  stationed,  the  twenty  men  heard  his  cries 
calling  them  to  help  him.  They  doubled  their  speed  and 
saw,  as  they  approached,  not  men  but  animals  escaping. 
The  sentinel  had  been  attacked  by  a  troop  of  five  or 
six  hungry  wolves,  which  began  by  watching  him  and 
circling  round  him,  then,  observing  his  immovability,  they 
grew  bolder.  The  man  put  his  back  to  a  tree  so  as  not  to 
be  attacked  from  behind,  and  there  he  had  defended  himself 
for  some  time  in  silence  with  his  bayonet  ;  but  one  wolf 
having  seized  the  blade  in  its  teeth,  the  soldier  fired  and 
blew  off  its  head.  The  wolves,  frightened  by  the  explosion, 
drew  off,  but,  driven  by  hunger,  returned,  as  much  perhaps 
to  eat  their  comrade  as  to  attack  the  sentinel.  Their  return 
was  so  rapid  that  the  soldier  did  not  have  time  to  reload 
his  musket.  He  was  therefore  defending  himself  as  best 
he  could,  having  already  received  several  bites,  when  his 
companions  arrived  and  put  to  flight  the  unexpected  enemy. 

The  sub-lieutenant  who  commanded  the  twenty  men 
left  four  as  sentries  on  the  post,  and  returned  to  camp 
bearing  two  wolves  as  trophies,  —  one  killed  by  the  shot, 
another  by  a  bayonet.  Their  skins,  well  furred  at  that  cold 
season,  were  destined  to  be  a  foot-rug  for  the  general.  The 
lieutenant  took  the  sentry  to  Pichegru,  who  received  him 
with  a  stern  face,  thinking  the  gun  had  gone  off  through 
carelessness  ;  but  his  brow  grew  darker  still  when  he  learned 
that  the  soldier  had  fired  intentionally,  to  defend  himself 
against  the  wolves. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  that  I  ought  to  have  you  shot 
for  firing  at  anything  except  the  enemy  ?  " 

"  But  what  was  I  to  do,  general  ?  "  said  the  poor  devil, 
so  naively  that  Pichegru  could  not  help  smiling. 

"  Let  yourself  be   devoured  to  the  last  morsel  by  the 


THE    DAY    BEFORE    THE    FIGHT.  155 

wolves  sooner  than  fire  a  shot  which  woukl  warn  tlie  enemy 
of  our  approach,  and  which  in  any  case  would  wake  up  our 
whole  army." 

''  I  did  think  of  it,  general  ;  but,  you  see,  they  began  it, 
the  villains  !  "  He  showed  his  torn  and  bloody  cheek  and 
arms.  ''  But  I  said  to  myself  :  '  Faraud  (that 's  my  name, 
general),  if  they  've  stationed  you  here  it  is  because  they 
fear  the  enemy  might  get  by  ;  they  rely  on  you  not  to  let 
him.'  " 

"Well?"  said  Pichegru. 

"Well,  if  I  were  eaten,  general,  nothing  would  have  kept 
the  enemy  from  getting  by.  That 's  what  made  me  resolve 
to  lire.  The  idea  of  personal  safety  came  later,  upon  my 
honor." 

"  But  that  shot,  you  rascal  !  it  may  have  been  heard  at  the 
enemy's  outposts." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  uneasy  about  that,  general  !  they  '11  be  sure 
to  think  it  a  poacher." 

"Are  you  a  Parisian  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  belong  to  the  first  battalion  of  the  Indre.  I 
volunteered  to  join  it  as  it  passed  through  Paris." 

"Well,  Paraud,  I've  a  bit  of  advice  to  give  you,  and 
that  is,  not  to  let  me  see  you  again  till  you  wear  the 
chevrons  of  a  corporal,  and  then  I  may  forget  the  fault  of 
discipline  you  have  just  committed." 

"  How  am  I  to  get  them,  general  ?  " 

"Bring  in  to  your  captain  to-morrow,  or  rather  to-day, 
two  Prussian  prisoners." 

"  Soldiers  or  officers,  general  ?  " 

"Officers  preferred;  but  I  will  be  content  with  two 
soldiers." 

"  I  '11  do  my  best,  general." 

"  Has  anybody  any  brandy  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"I  have,"  said  Doumerc. 

"  Well,  give  a  drop  to  this  coward,  who  says  he  is  going 
to  capture  two  Prussians  to-morrow." 

"  Suppose  I  get  only  one,  general  ?  " 


156  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Then  you  will  be  only  half  a  corporal,  and  will  wear 
but  one  chevron." 

"  No,  that  would  make  me  lop-sided  !  To-morrow  night, 
general,  I  '11  have  the  two,  or  you  can  say  to  yourself, 
'Faraud  is  dead.'     Your  health,  general." 

"  General,"  said  Charles,  "  it  was  with  talk  like  that  that 
Caesar  made  his  Gauls  go  round  the  world." 


THE   BATTLE.  157 


XXII. 

THE    BATTLE. 

The  army  was  fully  roused  and  was  anxious  to  march. 
It  was  then  five  o'clock.  The  general  gave  the  order  to 
advance,  telling  the  soldiers  they  should  breakfast  at 
Dawendorff  and  have  a  double  ration  of  brandy.  Scouts 
were  sent  in  advance,  who  picked  up  the  sentries  in  pass- 
ing ;  then  the  army  issued  from  the  wood  in  three  columns, 
—  one  taking  Kaltenhausen  on  its  way,  while  the  two  others 
passed  to  right  and  left  of  that  village,  drawing  a  light 
battery  after  them,  and  spreading  over  the  plain  before 
Dawendorff. 

The  enemy  was  surprised  in  Kaltenhausen  ;  its  farthest 
outpost  had  made  little  or  no  resistance  ;  but  the  few  shots 
fired  had  given  the  alarm  in  Dawendorff,  and  the  royalist 
troops  were  now  seen  issuing  from  the  village  and  forming 
in  line  of  battle.  A  hill  rose  about  half  a  cannon-shot  from 
the  village  ;  Pichegru  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop,  followed  by 
his  staff,  and  made  for  the  summit,  from  which  he  could 
take  m  the  whole  battlefield,  with  all  its  details. 

Before  starting,  he  ordered  Colonel  Macdonald  to  take 
command  of  the  first  battalion  of  the  Indre,  which  formed 
the  head  of  the  main  column,  and  dislodge  the  enemy  from 
Dawendorff.  He  kept  the  8th  Chasseurs  with  him  to  send 
at  need  where  wanted,  and  he  posted  a  battery  of  six  pieces 
of  eight  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  battalion  of  the  Indre,  followed  by  the  rest  of  the 
army,  strategically  spaced  off,  marched  straight  upon  the 
enemy.  When  the  republicans  were  about  two  hundred 
paces  from  the  latter,  Pichegru  made  a  signal,  and  the  artil- 
lery covered  the  advanced  works  of  the  enemy  with  a  rain 
of  cannister.     The  Prussians,  on  their  side,  replied  by  a 


158  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

solid  fire,  which  brought  down  fifty  men.  But  the  brave 
attacking  battalion  broke  into  a  run,  and,  preceded  by  its 
drum-corps  beating  the  charge,  fell  upon  the  enemy  with 
the  bayonet.  Already  harassed  by  the  cannister  which  the 
general  was  raining  upon  them,  the  Prussians  abandoned 
the  outer  works,  and  our  soldiers  were  then  seen  entering 
pell-mell  with  the  enemy  into  the  village.  But  at  the  same 
time  there  advanced  on  either  side  of  the  village  two  con» 
siderable  bodies  of  men,  —  the  cavalry  and  infantry  of  the 
émigrés  ;  the  cavalry  commanded  by  the  Prince  de  Condé, 
the  infantry  by  the  Due  de  Bourbon.  These  troops  threat- 
ened to  flank  the  little  army  corps  which  was  directly  behind 
the  battalion  of  the  Indre. 

Pichegru  instantly  sent  forward  Captain  Gaume,  an  aide- 
de-camp,  to  order  General  Michaud,  who  commanded  the 
centre,  to  form  in  square  and  receive  the  charge  of  the 
Prince  de  Condé  on  his  bayonets.  Then,  calling  to  Abat- 
tucci,  he  ordered  him  to  take  command  of  the  8th  regiment 
of  Chasseurs,  and  charge  upon  the  infantry  of  the  émigrés 
as  soon  as  he  found  the  shot  from  the  battery  had  suffi- 
ciently disordered  its  lines. 

From  the  hill  where  he  stood  beside  the  general,  Charles 
saw  at  his  feet  the  terrible  game  of  chess  which  we  call  war 
played  by  Pichegru  and  the  Prince  de  Condé  ;  in  other 
words,  by  the  Republic  and  the  counter-revolution.  He 
saw  Captain  Gaume  dashing  at  a  gallop  across  the  open 
space  which  lay  to  the  left  of  the  hill  where  Pichegru 
stood,  bearing  the  order  of  the  commander-in-chief  to 
Adjutant-General  Michaud,  who  had  himself  that  instant 
perceived  that  his  left  was  threatened  by  the  Prince  de 
Condé,  and  was  about  to  give  the  very  order  now  brought 
to  him  by  Captain  Gaume.  On  the  other  side  —  namely, 
the  right  —  the  lad  saw  Captain  Abattucci  take  command 
of  the  8th  Chasseurs,  and  descend  the  slope  at  a  trot,  while 
the  artillery  poured  its  volleys  in  quick  succession  into  the 
mass  of  approaching  infantry. 

There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation  in  the  infantry  of  the 


ça 


THE   BATTLE.  159 

émigrés.  Abattucci  profited  by  it.  He  ordered  sabres  out, 
and  in  an  instant  six  hundred  blades  sparkled  in  the  rays 
of  the  rising  sun.  The  Duo  de  Bourbon  commanded  his  men 
to  form  in  square  ;  but  the  disorder  was  tr  ^  great,  or  the 
command  too  late.  The  charge  came  on  like  a  whirlwind,  and 
horsemen  and  footmen  could  be  seen  from  the  hill  struggling 
together,  hand  to  hand,  while  on  the  other  side  General 
Michaud  was  firing  upon  the  enemy's  cavalry,  which  was 
then  scarcely  twenty-five  paces  from  him.  It  is  impossible 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  effect  produced  by  this  discharge  at 
so  short  a  range.  More  than  a  hundred  horsemen  and 
horses  went  down;  some,  carried  on  by  their  impetuous 
rush,  rolled  headlong  into  the  first  line  of  the  republican 
square.  The  Prince  de  Condé  fell  back  to  reform  his  cav- 
alry out  of  range  of  the  fire. 

At  the  same  instant  the  battalion  of  the  Indre  reappeared, 
retreating  very  slowly,  but  still  retreating.  Met,  within 
the  village,  by  volleys  of  musketry  from  the  windows  of  all 
the  houses  and  by  the  fire  of  two  cannon  in  the  market- 
place, the  republicans  were  forced  to  retrograde.  Pichegru 
sent  his  fourth  aide-de-camp,  Chaumette,  at  full  gallop,  to 
find  out  what  the  matter  was  and  to  order  Macdonald  to 
stop  and  hold  his  ground.  Chaumette  crossed  the  battle- 
field amid  the  double  fire  of  republicans  and  royalists,  and 
accomplished  the  mission  with  which  his  general  had 
charged  him. 

Macdonald  replied  that  not  only  he  should  not  budge 
from  where  he  was,  but  as  soon  as  his  men  had  got  their 
breath,  the}'  would  make  another  attempt  on  Dawendorff. 
Only  he  wished  that  some  sort  of  diversion  could  be  made 
on  the  village  to  facilitate  his  difficult  task.  Chaumette 
returned  to  the  general  ;  he  was  so  near  the  field  of  battle 
that  it  had  taken  only  a  few  minutes  to  carry  his  orders 
and  return  with  the  reply. 

"Take  twenty-five  chasseurs  and  four  trumpeters  from 
Abattucci,"  said  Pichegru  ;  "  turn  the  village  with  them, 
enter  the  street  at  the  other  end,  sound  the  trumpets  with 


160  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

all  your  might  while  Macdonald   charges  ;    they  'II   think 
they  are  between  two  fires  and  they  '11  surrender." 

Chaumette  rode  down  the  hill  again,  made  his  way  to 
Abattucci,  took  twenty-five  chasseurs  and  the  trumpeters, 
sent  a  twenty-sixth  man  to  Macdonald  to  tell  him  what  to 
expect,  and  rounded  the  village.  At  the  same  moment 
Macdonald  raised  his  sabre,  the  drums  beat  the  charge,  and 
in  the  face  of  a  terrible  discharge  of  musketry  he  lowered 
his  head  and  forced  his  way  back  into  the  place.  Almost 
at  the  same  instant  Chaumette's  trumpets  were  blaring  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  street. 

The  mêlée  was  now  general  ;  the  Prince  de  Condé,  having 
reformed,  again  charged  Michaud's  square  ;  the  royalist 
infantry  was  retreating  before  the  8th  Chasseurs  and 
Abattucci  ;  while  Pichegru  himself  sent  half  of  his  reserves 
(about  four  or  five  hundred  men)  to  follow  the  battalion  of 
the  Indre  ;  keeping  the  same  number  still  in  hand,  in  case  of 
unexpected  disaster.  As  the  royalist  infantry  was  retreat- 
ing, it  paused  to  send  a  last  volley,  not  at  Abattucci  and  his 
Chasseurs,  but  at  the  group  on  the  hill,  among  whom  it  was 
easy  to  distinguish  the  commander-in-chief,  with  his  plume 
and  his  gold  epaulets. 

Two  men  fell  ;  the  general's  horse  was  struck,  and  Charles, 
giving  a  sigh,  fell  backward  on  his  animal. 

"  Ah  !  poor  child  !  "  cried  Pichegru.  "  Larrey  !  Larrey  !  " 
A  young  surgeon  about  twenty-six  or  twenty-seven 
years  of  age  came  up.  They  held  the  boy  on  his  horse  ; 
and  as  in  falling  he  had  put  his  hand  to  his  breast,  they 
,  opened  his  jacket.  The  astonishment  of  every  one  was 
great  when  between  the  waistcoat  and  the  shirt  they  found 
a  fatigue-cap.     This  they  shook,  and  the  ball  fell  out. 

"  No  need  to  look  further."  said  the  young  surgeon,  "  the 
shirt  is  intact,  there  is  no  blood.  The  boy  is  weak,  and  the 
blow  made  him  faint,  that 's  all.  Odd  enough  !  here 's  a 
fatigue-cap  which  would  have  done  no  good  in  its  own  place, 
but  being  on  a  boy's  breast  saves  his  life  !  Give  him  a 
drop  of  brandy  and  he  '11  be  all  right." 


THE   BATTLE,  161 

"  It  is  queer,"  said  Pichegru  ;  "  that  cap  belongs  to  one  of 
Condé's  chasseurs." 

Just  then  Charles,  to  whose  lips  they  had  put  a  flask, 
came  to  himself;  and  his  first  movement  was  to  feel  for  the 
cap.  He  had  opened  his  mouth  to  ask  for  it,  when  he  saw 
it  in  the  general's  hand. 

"  Ah,  general  !  "  he  cried,  "  forgive  me  !  " 

"  Sapristi  !  you  'd  better  say  that  ;  a  pretty  fright  you  've 
given  us." 

"  Oh  !  that 's  not  it,"  said  Charles,  smiling,  but  nodding  at 
the  cap. 

"  Yes,  by  the  bye,"  said  Pichegru,  "  you  '11  have  to  explain 
to  me  about  that  cap." 

Charles  went  close  to  him  and  whispered. 

"  It  belonged  to  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine,"  he  said, 
"the  young  émigi-é  I  saw  shot  ;  and  who  gave  it  to  me  just 
as  he  died  to  carry  to  his  family." 

"  But,"  said  Pichegru,  feeling  the  cap,  "  there 's  a  letter 
inside." 

"Yes,  general,  to  his  brother;  that  poor  fellow  was 
afraid  if  he  gave  it  to  strangers  his  brother  would  n't  get  it." 

"  Whereas  if  he  gave  it  to  a  compatriot  he  did  not  fear  ; 
is  that  it  ?  " 

"  Did  I  do  wrong,  general  ?  " 

"It  is  never  wrong  to  fulfil  the  wish  of  a  dying  man, 
above  all  if  the  wish  is  honorable.  I  '11  say  more  ;  it  is  a 
sacred  duty  to  be  fulfilled  as  soon  as  possible  —  but  now  let 
us  see  what  is  going  on  down  there." 

At  the  end  of  a  few  minutes  Charles,  forgetting  his  own 
accident,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  battlefield  and  breath- 
less with  the  excitement  of  such  a  scene,  touched  the  gen- 
eral on  the  arm  and  showed  him,  with  an  exclamation  of 
amazement,  a  number  of  men  running  on  the  roofs  of  the 
houses,  jumping  from  windows,  clambering  over  garden 
walls,  all  making  for  the  plain. 

"  Good  !  "  said  Pichegru,  "  we  are  masters  of  the  town  ; 
the   day  is   ours."     Then  he  added,  to  Lieber,  the  only 

VOL.    I — 11 


102  THE   FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

officer  who  remained  by  him,  "  Take  the  reserve,  and  pre- 
vent those  men  from  rallying." 

Lieber  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  four  or  five  hun- 
dred infantry,  and  went  down  the  incline  at  a  run. 

"  As  for  us,"  said  Pichegru,  with  his  usual  quiet  manner, 
"  let  us  go  and  see  what  they  are  doing  in  the  town." 

Accompanied  by  only  twenty-five  or  thirty  men,  reserved 
from  the  8th  Chasseurs,  and  by  General  Boursier  and 
Charles,  he  took  the  road  to  Dawendorff  at  a  quick  trot. 

Charles  gave  a  last  look  over  the  plain  ;  the  enemy  were 
flying  in  every  direction.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  seen 
a  battle  ;  he  was  now  to  see  a  battlefield.  He  had  seen 
the  poetic  side,  the  movement,  the  fire,  the  smoke  ;  distance 
had  hidden  the  details  from  him.  He  was  now  to  see  the 
other  side  of  war,  the  hideous  side,  —  stark  immobility, 
agony,  death  ;  he  was  to  know  at  last  the  bloody  reality. 


AFTER   THE   BATTLE.  163 


XXIII. 


AFTER    THE    BATTLE. 


For  the  short  distance  the  little  troop  had  to  cross,  the 
plain  was  covered  with  the  wounded,  the  dying,  or  the 
dead.  The  fight  had  lasted  barely  an  hour  and  a  half,  yet 
more  than  fifteen  hundred  men,  friends  or  enemies,  lay 
heaped  together  on  the  battlefield. 

Charles  approached  the  line  of  bodies  with  a  certain 
dread  ;  at  the  first  corpse  they  came  to,  his  horse  snorted 
and  shied  so  violently  that  the  boy  was  almost  flung  from 
the  saddle.  Pichegru's  horse,  more  firmly  handled,  or  else 
more  habituated  to  such  obstacles,  leaped  them  ;  and  there 
came  a  moment  when  Charles's  horse,  imitating  that  of 
Pichegru,  did  likewise.  But  soon  it  was  not  the  dead 
bodies  which  made  the  deepest  impression  upon  the  lad  ; 
it  was  the  dying,  who  with  awful  effort  tried,  some  to 
get  out  of  the  way  of  the  horses  of  the  general  and  his 
escort,  while  others,  more  horribly  mutilated,  cried  out,  with 
the  rattle  in  their  throats  :  "  Comrades,  in  pity,  kill  me, 
kill  me  !  " 

Others  —  these  were  the  least  wounded  —  rose  and  with 
a  touch  of  pride  saluted  Pichegru,  waving  their  hats  and 
crying  out  :  "  Vive  la  République  !  " 

"  Is  this  the  first  time  you  have  seen  a  battlefield, 
Charles  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"  No,  general,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Where  did  you  see  one  ?  " 

"  In  Tacitus  ;  at  the  battle  of  Teutberg  with  Germanicus 
and  Cecina." 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  said  Pichegru,  "  I  remember  ;  it  is 
before  they  get  to  the  forest  that  Germanicus  finds  the 
eagle  of  the  19th  Legion  lost  by  Varus." 


164  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"And  don't  you  remember,  general,  the  passage,  whieli 
I  can  understand  now,  where  it  says  :  '  The  whole  army 
was  seized  with  pity  as  it  thought  of  parents,  friends,  the 
chances  of  war,  the  fate  of  men  '  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Pichegru,  "  and  Tacitus  tells  about  the 
wide,  open  plain,  the  bleaching  bones,  scattered  about  and 
showing  where  the  battle  had  been.  Oh  !  "  cried  Pichegru, 
"  I  wish  I  could  remember  the  Latin  of  it  ;  no  translation 
renders  it  ;  stop  :  '  Medio  —  '  " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Charles,  "  '  Medio  campi  albentia 
ossa  ut  fugerant,  ut  resisterantJ  " 

"  Bravo,  Charles  !  "  exclaimed  Pichegru  ;  "  your  father 
gave  me  a  capital  present  when  he  sent  you  here." 

"  General,"  said  Charles,  "  are  you  not  going  to  give  any 
orders  to  carry  help  to  those  poor  wounded  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  see  the  surgeons  are  going  from  one  to  the 
other,  with  orders  to  make  no  difference  between  French 
and  Prussians  ?  We  have  gained  that,  at  least,  by  eighteen 
hundred  years  of  civilization  ;  we  don't  cut  the  throats  of 
our  prisoners  on  the  altars  of  Tentâtes,  as  they  did  in  the 
days  of  Arnim  and  Mar  bod. 

"And  moreover,"  said  Charles,  "the  conquered  generals 
are  not  obliged,  like  Varus,  to  stab  themselves  infelice 
dextray 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing,  "  that  it  is  so 
very  much  better  to  be  sent  before  the  Revolutionary 
Committee,  like  poor  Eisemberg,  whose  face  is  always 
before  my  eyes  and  his  words  in  my  ears  ?  " 

While  talking  thus  they  entered  the  town,  where  the 
sight  was,  perhaps,  more  dreadful  still,  the  space  being 
less.  Before  flying  over  roofs  and  walls,  the  Prussians 
and  the  émigrés  had  made  a  despera-te  resistance  ;  when 
cartridges  gave  out  they  had  used  any  missile  that  came  to 
hand  ;  from  the  windows  of  the  first  and  second  stories  they 
had  thrown  down  on  the  assailants,  wardrobes,  bureaus, 
sofas,  chairs,  and  even  the  marble  of  the  chimney-pieces; 
some   of  the  houses   were   in  flames,   and  as  there   was 


AFTER   THE   BATTLE.  165 

nothing  left  within  them,  the  ruined  owners  thought  it 
useless  to  extinguish  the  fires,  and  watched  them  burning. 
Pichegru  gave  orders  that  these  tires  should  be  put  out 
wherever  possible  ;  then  he  rode  to  the  town-hall,  where  he 
always  took  up  his  abode  during  a  campaign. 

There  he  received  the  reports.  As  he  entered  the 
courtyard  he  noticed  a  baggage  waggon,  carefully  guarded, 
which  bore  the  blue  escutcheon  with  the  thveejleurs  de  lu 
of  France  ;  it  had  been  captured  at  the  Prince  de  Condé's 
headquarters.  Believing  it  to  be  of  importance,  they  had 
taken  it  to  the  town-hall,  knowing  that  the  general  would 
come  there. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Pichegru  ;  "  it  will  be  opened  before 
the  staff." 

He  dismounted,  went  up  the  staircase,  and  settled  him- 
self in  the  council  chamber.  The  officers  who  had  taken 
part  in  the  engagement  came  in  one  by  one.  First,  Captain 
Gaume  :  desiring  to  do  his  share  in  the  fight,  he  had  joined 
the  square  formed  by  General  Michaud,  and  had  seen  the 
Prince  de  Condé,  after  making  three  vigorous  but  useless 
charges,  retire  in  a  wide  circle  toward  Haguenau,  leaving 
about  two  hundred  troopers  on  the  battlefield.  General 
Michaud  was  looking  after  the  return  of  his  men  to  quar- 
ters, and  giving  orders  for  rations  of  bread  to  be  baked  in 
Dawendorff  and  distributed  in  the  neighboring  villages. 

Next  came  Chaumette  ;  he  had,  according  to  the  general's 
order,  taken  twenty-five  chasseurs  and  the  four  trumpeters 
and  had  entered  the  other  end  of  the  village  sounding 
the  charge  as  if  he  were  at  the  head  of  six  hundred  men. 
The  ruse  succeeded.  The  Prussians  and  the  little  body  of 
émigrés  who  defended  the  town  thought  themselves  attacked 
before  and  behind,  and  the  result  was  the  flight  through 
windows  and  over  roofs  and  walls  that  Charles  had  seen 
and  shown  to  the  general. 

Next,  Abattucci,  with  a  sabre-cut  on  his  cheek  and  a 
dislocated  shoulder.  The  general  had  seen  with  what 
splendid   courage    he    had   charged  at   the    head    of    his 


166  THE    FIEST    REPUBLIC. 

chasseurs,  but  after  he  reached  the  centre  of  the  enemy's 
infantry  and  the  fight  became  hand  to  hand,  the  details 
were  indistinguishable.  Abattucci's  horse  had  been  killed 
by  a  ball  through  its  head.  Pinned  down  by  its  fall,  the 
rider  had  his  shoulder  put  out  and  received  a  cut  from  a 
sabre  ;  he  thought  himself  lost,  when  a  powerful  chasseur 
released  him.  Still,  dismounted  in  the  midst  of  the  wild 
mêlée,  he  was  in  great  danger,  when  the  same  chasseur, 
Falou,  whom  the  general  had  questioned  the  night  before, 
brought  him  a  horse  which  he  had  taken  from  an  officer 
whom  he  had  killed.  There  was  no  time  for  compliments  ; 
Abattucci  sprang  to  the  saddle  and  caught  the  reins  with 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  offered  his  purse  to  his 
deliverer.  But  the  latter  pushed  back  the  officer's  hand,  and 
carried  away  by  the  rush  of  combatants  Abattucci  cried  : 
"We  shall  meet  again."  Consequently,  on  reaching  head- 
quarters he  had  given  orders  that  the  chasseur  Falou  should 
be  inquired  for  in  all  directions.  The  young  aide-de-camp 
and  his  men  had  killed  about  two  hundred  of  the  enemy 
and  captured  a  flag.  Eight  or  ten  of  his  men  were  killad 
or  wounded. 

Macdonald  waited  till  Abattucci  had  made  his  report 
before  giving  in  his  own.  At  the  head  of  the  battalion 
of  the  Indre  it  was  he  who  had  borne  the  chief  brunt  of 
the  day.  Met  in  the  first  place  by  the  fire  from  the 
intrenchments,  he  had  passed  those  intrenchments  and 
entered  the  town.  There,  we  already  know  how  he  was 
received.  Each  house  had  belched  fire  like  a  volcano  ;  in 
spite  of  the  hail  of  balls  which  decimated  his  troops  he 
had  continued  to  advance  ;  but  on  turning  into  the  main 
street  a  battery  of  two  cannon  showered  them  with  grape- 
shot  at  a  distance  of  five  hundred  paces.  It  was  then  that 
the  battalion  slowly  retreated  and  appeared  again  outside 
the  town.  According  to  the  message  he  had  sent,  as  soon 
as  his  men  got  their  breath,  Macdonald  took  them  back 
at  the  double-quick,  inspired  b}^  the  trumpets  of  the  8th 
Chasseurs  which  were  sounding  the  charge   at   the   other 


AFTER   THE   BATTLE.  167 

end  of  the  town.  He  pushed  to  the  open  square,  intending 
to  surround  the  battery,  but  the  chasseurs  were  there 
before  him. 

From  that  moment  the  place  was  ours.  Besides  the 
two  cannon,  a  waggon  bearing  the  lilies  of  France  had,  as 
we  have  seen,  fallen  into  our  hands.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  the  general,  foreseeing  that  it  might  contain 
the  Prince  de  Condé's  treasure,  had  given  orders  that  it 
should  be  opened  only  in  presence  of  his  staff. 

Lieber  was  the  last  to  report  ;  seconded  by  Abattucci's 
chasseurs  he  had  pursued  the  enemy  for  over  three  miles, 
and  had  taken  three  hundred  prisoners. 

The  day  had  been  a  good  one.  Over  a  thousand  of  the 
enemy  were  killed,  and  five  to  six  hundred  prisoners  taken. 
Larrey  had  put  back  Abattucci's  shoulder.  None  of  the 
staff  were  absent,  and  they  all  went  down  to  the  court- 
yard, having  sent  for  a  locksmith.  One  was  found  close 
by,  and  he  came  with  his  instruments. 

In  a  moment  the  cover  of  the  waggon  was  off.  One  of 
its  compartments  was  full  of  rolls  that  looked  like  long 
cartridges.  They  broke  one  and  the  cartridges  proved  to 
be  gold  coin.  Each  roll  contained  a  hundred  guineas  (two 
thousand  five  hundred  francs)  each  bearing  the  effigy  of 
King  George.  There  were  three  hundred  and  ten  rolls  ; 
in  all,  seven  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  francs. 

"Faith  !"  said  Pichegru,  "that's  just  in  time  ;  we  shall 
be  able  to  pay  the  men  up  to  date.     Where 's  Estève  ?  " 

Estève  was  the  paymaster  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine. 
He  answered  Pichegru's  call. 

"Take  five  hundred  thousand  francs,"  continued  Piche- 
gru, "  and  pay  everything  up  at  once.  Put  your  office  on 
the  ground-floor  here  ;  I  '11  take  the  first  floor." 

Five  hundred  thousand  francs  were  at  once  counted  out 
to  citizen  Estève. 

"Now,"  said  Pichegru,  "twenty -five  thousand  of  the 
rest  are  to  go  to  the  battalion  of  the  Indre,  for  that  suffered 
the  most." 


168  THE    FIKST    REPUBLIC. 

"  That  will  be  about  thirty-nine  francs  to  each  man," 
said  Esteve. 

"  And  keep  fifty  thousand  for  the  current  wants  of  the 
army." 

"  What 's  to  be  done  with  the  remaining  two  hundred 
thousand  ?  " 

"  Abattucci  shall  take  them  to  the  Convention  with  the 
flag  we  captured  ;  it  is  a  proper  thing  to  show  the  world 
that  republicans  don't  fight  for  gold.  Come,  let  us 
go  upstairs,  citizens,  and  leave  Esteve  to  attend  to  his 
business." 


CITIZEN   FENOUILLOT.  169 


XXIV. 

CITIZEN"   FENOUILLOT,    COMMERCIAL   TRAVELLER 
IN     WINES. 

PiCHEGRu's  valet,  who  had  the  good  sense  not  to  discard 
his  station  of  valet  for  any  pretended  rank,  nor  the  name 
of  Leblanc  for  that  of  Lerouge,  had,  during  this  time,  set 
the  table  for  breakfast  and  covered  it  with  provisions 
brought  by  himself,  —  a  precaution  by  no  means  useless  in 
cases  like  the  present,  when  the  guests  came  straight 
from  the  battlefield. 

These  thirsty,  hungry,  tired  young  men,  some  of  them 
wounded,  were  not  indifferent  to  the  sight  of  that  break- 
fast, of  which  they  were  much  in  need.  But  hurrahs  of 
satisfaction  burst  forth  when  they  saw  among  the  bottles 
of  evidently  democratic  origin  six  with  silvered  necks, 
indicating  that  they  came  from  the  best  vintages  of  Cham- 
pagne. Pichegru  himself  noticed  them,  and  turning  to 
his  valet  exclaimed  with  his  soldierly  familiarity  :  — 

"  Ah  ça  !  Leblanc,  is  this  my  birthday,  or  yours  ?  or  is 
it  only  to  celebrate  our  victory  that  I  find  such  extrava- 
gance on  my  table  ?  Don't  you  know  if  it  gets  to  the 
ears  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  they'll  cut  my 
head  off  ?  " 

"Citizen  general,  it  isn't  extravagance,  though  I  must 
say  your  victory  deserves  being  celebrated  ;  and  the  day 
you  capture  seven  hundred  thousand  francs  from  the  enemy 
you  might  be  allowed,  without  wrong  to  the  government,  to 
drink  twenty  francs'  worth  of  champagne.  IN'o,  set  your 
mind  at  rest,  citizen  general,  that  champagne  won't  cost 
you  or  the  Republic  a  penny." 

"You  rascal  !  "  cried  Pichegru,  "I  hope  you  have  n't  been 
robbing  a  wine-shop  or  pillaging  a  cellar  ?  " 

"  No,  general  ;  it  is  a  patriotic  gift." 


170  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

"  Patriotic  gift  !  " 

"  Yes,  from  citizen  Fenouillot." 

"  Who  is  citizen  Fenouillot  ?  It  can't  be  the  lawyer  at 
Besançon  ?  There  is  a  lawyer  of  that  name  in  Besançon, 
is  n't  there,  Charles  ?  " 

"  Yes,  general,"  replied  the  lad  ;  "  and  a  great  friend  of 
my  father,  too." 

"He  has  nothing  to  do  with  Besançon  or  lawyers,"  said 
Leblanc,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  his  say  frankly  to 
the  general  ;  "  he  is  citizen  Fenouillot,  commercial  traveller 
for  the  firm  of  Fraissinet  at  Chalons,  who,  in  return  for  the 
service  you  have  done  him  in  delivering  him  from  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  sends  you,  or  rather  offers  you  through 
me,  these  six  bottles  of  wine,  that  you  may  drink  your  own 
health  and  the  prosperity  of  the  Kepublic." 

"  Was  he  here  in  this  place  with  the  enemy,  your  citizen 
Fenouillot  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  as  he  was  a  prisoner,  —  he  and  his  samples." 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  general  ?  "  said  Abattucci. 

"  He  might  give  us  some  useful  information,"  remarked 
Doumerc. 

"  Where  does  he  lodge,  your  man  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"Close  by,  at  that  hôtel  next  the  town  hall." 

"Put  another  plate  there,  directly  in  front  of  me,  and 
go  and  tell  citizen  Fenouillot  that  I  request  him  to  do  me 
the  honor  to  breakfast  with  us.  Sit  down,  gentlemen,  in 
your  usual  places." 

The  officers  all  took  their  seats  as  usual.  Pichegru  placed 
Charles  on  his  left  ;  Leblanc  set  the  extra  plate,  and  went 
off  to  execute  the  general's  order.  Five  minutes  later 
Leblanc  returned  ;  he  had  found  citizen  Fenouillot  with 
his  napkin  at  his  neck  just  sitting  down  to  his  own  break- 
fast ;  but  citizen  Fenouillot  had  instantly  accepted  the  invi' 
tation  with  which  the  general  honored  him,  and  would  follow 
the  messenger. 

In  fact,  an  instant  later  a  free-mason's  knock  was  heard 
on  the  door.      Leblanc  opened  it.     A  man  from  thirty  to 


CITIZEN   FENOUILLOT.  171 

thirty-five  years  of  age  appeared  upon  the  threshold,  wear- 
ing the  civilian  dress  of  the  period,  without  either  the 
aristocratic  or  the  sans-culotte  exaggerations  ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  had  a  pointed  hat  with  a  broad  brim,  loose  cravat, 
waistcoat  with  broad  lapels,  a  brown  coat  with  long  tails, 
tight  breeches  of  some  light  color,  and  high  top-boots. 
He  was  fair  ;  his  hair  curled  naturally  ;  the  eyebrows  and 
whiskers  were  brown,  the  latter  being  lost  in  the  volu- 
minous folds  of  his  cravat  ;  his  eyes  were  extremely  bold  ; 
his  nose  was  large,  and  his  lips  thin. 

As  he  entered  the  dining-room,  he  seemed  for  an  instant 
to  hesitate. 

"  Come  in,  citizen  Fenouillot,"  said  Pichegru,  who  noticed 
the  movement,  slight  as  it  was. 

"Faith,  general,"  said  the  new-comer,  with  an  easy  air, 
"  the  gift  was  so  small  a  matter  that  I  doubted  if  it  were 
really  I  to  whom  your  gracious  invitation  was  sent." 

"Small  matter!"  replied  Pichegru.  "Let  me  tell  you 
that  with  a  pay  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  francs  a  day  in 
assignats  I  should  have  to  go  three  days  without  food  if  I 
took  a  fancy  to  make  such  a  debauch  in  champagne.  Sit 
down,  citizen,  —  there,  opposite  to  me,  that 's  your  place." 

The  two  officers  who  were  sitting  on  each  side  of  the  com- 
mercial traveller's  place  made  a  motion  to  move  back  their 
chairs  and  show  it  to  him.  Citizen  Fenouillot  sat  down; 
the  general  cast  a  rapid  glance  at  his  spotless  linen  and 
carefully  kept  hands. 

"  You  say  you  were  a  prisoner  when  we  entered  Dawen- 
dorff  ?  " 

"Prisoner,  or  something  like  it,  general.  I  did  not  know 
that  the  road  to  Haguenau  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy 
until  I  was  arrested  by  a  party  of  I*russians,  who  were  pro- 
ceeding to  drink  up  my  samples  then  and  there  ;  happily 
an  officer  came  along,  who  took  me  to  the  commander-in- 
chief.  I  thought  I  had  nothing  to  fear  except  the  loss  of 
my  samples,  and  I  felt  perfectly  easy  in  mind  until  the 
word  '  spy  '  began  to  circulate.     At  that  word,  as  you  can 


172  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

easily  believe,  general,  I  began  to  prick  up  my  ears  ;  and 
not  wishing  to  be  shot,  I  asked  to  be  taken  before  the  leader 
of  the  émigrés.''^ 

"  The  Prince  de  Condé  ?  " 

"  I  would  willingly  have  appealed  to  the  devil,  for  that 
matter  !  They  took  me  to  the  prince  ;  I  showed  him  my 
papers,  and  answered  his  questions  frankly.  He  tasted  my 
wine,  and  knew  it  was  n't  the  wine  of  a  cheat.  He  told  his 
Prussian  allies  that  as  I  was  a  Frenchman  he  would  keep 
me  as  a  prisoner  of  his  own." 

"  Did  they  make  your  imprisonment  hard  for  you  ?  " 
asked  Abattucci,  while  Pichegru  observed  his  guest  with  an 
attention  which  showed  he  was  not  far  from  sharing  the 
opinion  of  the  Prussian  general. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  citizen  Fenouillot  ;  "the  prince  and 
his  son  thought  my  wine  very  good,  and  those  gentlemen 
treated  me  with  a  kindness  almost  equal  to  yours  ;  though 
I  will  admit  that  yesterday,  when  the  news  of  the  taking  of 
Toulon  came,  and  I  could  n't,  as  a  good  Frenchman,  avoid 
showing  pleasure,  the  prince,  with  whom  I  had  the  honor 
of  speaking  at  the  moment,  dismissed  me  in  very  bad 
humor." 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  exclaimed  Pichegru,  "  so  Toulon  is  actually 
retaken  from  the  British  ?  " 

"Yes,  general." 

"  What  day  was  it  ?  " 

"  The  19th." 

"  And  this  is  the  21st.  How  the  devil  could  that  be  ? 
The  Prince  de  Condé  has  no  telegraph." 

"  No,"  said  the  commercial  traveller,  "  but  he  has  a 
pigeon  post,  and  pigeons  fly  sixty  miles  an  hour.  The 
news  reached  Strasbourg,  the  land  of  pigeons  ;  and  I  saw 
myself,  in  the  prince's  own  hand,  a  tiny  note  like  those 
they  attach  to  a  bird's  wing,  which  contained  the  news.  The 
note  was  very  small,  but  the  writing  was  fine,  so  that  a  few 
particulars  could  be  given." 

"  Do  you  know  those  particulars  ?  " 


CITIZEN   FENOUILLOT.  173 

"  The  town  surrendered  on  the  19th.  Part  of  the  besieg- 
ing army  entered  it  the  same  day  ;  that  evening,  by  order 
of  a  Commissioner  of  the  Convention,  two  hundred  and 
thirteen  persons  were  shot." 

"  Is  that  all  ;  was  nothing  said  about  a  certain  Buona- 
parte ?  "    asked  Abattucci. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  traveller,  "  the  dispatch  said  the 
taking  of  the  town  was  due  to  him." 

"  That  is  my  cousin  !  "  said  Abattucci,  laughing. 

"And  my  pupil!"  said  Pichegru.  "  Faith,  so  much  the 
better.  The  Republic  needs  men  of  genius  to  counterbalance 
scoundrels  like  that  Fouche." 

"  Fouche  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  did  n"t  Fouche  go  to  Lyon  at  the  heels  of  a  French 
army,  and  shoot  two  hundred  and  thirteen  men  the  very  day 
he  entered  upon  his  functions  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  Lyon  ;  but  here  at  Toulon  it  was  citizen  Barras." 

"  Citizen  Barras,  who  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  deputy  from  the  Var,  a  man  who  picked  up  in  India, 
where  he  once  served,  the  habits  of  a  nabob,  and  who  sits 
among  the  Mountain  at  the  Convention.  It  seems  they 
talk  of  razing  the  town  and  putting  all  the  inhabitants  to 
death." 

"  Let  'em  raze  and  let  'em  kill  !  "  cried  Pichegru.  "  The 
more  they  raze  and  the  more  they  kill,  the  sooner  the  end 
will  come.  Upon  my  soul,  I  prefer  our  old  good  God  to 
the  Supreme  Being  who  allows  such  horrors." 

"  And  my  cousin  Buonaparte,  what  do  they  say  about 
him  ?  " 

"  They  say,"  replied  citizen  Fenouillot,  "  that  he  is  an 
officer  of  artillery  and  a  friend  of  the  younger  Robespierre." 

"I  say,  general,"  cried  Abattucci,  "if  he  has  got  the 
court  ear  of  the  Jacobins  in  that  way,  he  '11  make  his  way 
and  protect  us." 

"Apropos  of  protection,"  said  citizen  Fenouillot,  "is  it 
true,  citizen  general,  what  the  Due  de  Bourbon  told  me  one 
day  when  he  was  praising  you  very  highly  ?  " 


174  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"  The  Due  de  Bourbon  is  very  amiable,"  said  Pichegru, 
laughing,  "  What  did  he  tell  you  ?  " 

"He  said  it  was  his  father,  the  Prince  de  Condé,  who 
gave  you  your  first  rank." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Pichegru. 

"  How  so  ?  "  asked  three  or  four  voices. 

"  I  was  serving  as  a  private  in  the  Royal  Artillery,  when 
one  day  the  Prince  de  Condé,  who  was  present  at  some 
exercises  in  the  practice-field  at  Besançon,  came  up  to  the 
piece  he  thought  best  handled  ;  but  just  as  the  gunner  was 
swabbing  it  out,  the  piece  exploded  and  took  oif  his  arm. 
The  prince  blamed  me  for  the  accident,  accusing  me  of  not 
having  stopped  the  touch-hole  with  my  thumb.  I  let  him 
say  what  he  liked,  and  then,  for  all  answer,  I  showed  him 
my  bleeding  hand.  The  thumb  was  turned  back  and  almost 
torn  off.  See,"  continued  Pichegru,  holding  up  his  hand, 
"there  's  the  scar;  on  that  the  prince  made  me  a  sergeant." 

Little  Charles,  who  was  beside  the  general,  took  his  hand 
as  if  to  look  at  the  scar,  and  then,  with  a  rapid  movement, 
kissed  it. 

"  Hey  !  what  are  you  doing  ?  "  cried  Pichegru,  vehemently 
pulling  away  his  hand. 

"I ?     Nothing,"  said  Charles,  " only  admiring  you." 


THE   CHASSEUR   FALOU   AND   CORPORAL   FARAUD.      175 

XXV. 

THE   CHASSEUR   FALOU   AND    CORPORAL   FARAUD. 

At  this  instant  the  door  opened  and  the  chasseur  Falou 
appeared,  conducted  by  two  of  his  comrades. 

"Beg  pardon,  captain,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers  who  had 
brought  Falou  to  Abattucci,  "  but  you  told  me  you  wanted 
to  see  him,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  told  you  I  wanted  to  see  him." 

"  There  !  was  n't  it  true  ?  "  said  the  soldier  to  Falou. 

"Yes  it  must  be,  if  the  captain  says  so." 

"Would  you  believe  it,  he  refused  to  come,  and  we  had 
to  bring  him  by  force  !  " 

"Why  did  you  refuse  to  come  ?  "  asked  Abattucci. 

"  Hey  !  captain,  because  I  was  afraid  you  'd  talk  more 
nonsense  to  me." 

"  Talk  nonsense  to  you  !  " 

"  Come,"  said  the  chasseur,  "  I  '11  take  you  for  judge, 
general." 

"  I  'm  listening,  Falou,"  said  Pichegru. 

"Bless  me  !  how  do  you  know  my  name  ?  "  Then  turn- 
ing to  his  two  comrades  he  said,  "  The  general  knows  my 
name  !  " 

"  I  told  you  I  w^as  listening  ;  go  on,"  said  the  general. 

"Well,  general,  this  is  how  it  was;  we  charged,  didn't 
we  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  My  horse  swerved  so  as  not  to  step  on  a  wounded  man  ; 
they  're  amazingly  intelligent  animals,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  Mine  particularly.  I  was  right  in  front  of  an  émigré, 
ha!  such  a  handsome  fellow,  quite  young,  twenty-two  at 
most  ;  he  aimed  at  my  head,  I  parried  first  guard  —  " 


176  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Of  course." 

<'  —  and  thrust  straight  with  the  sabre  ;  nothing  else  to  do, 
was  there  ?  " 

"1^0,  nothing." 

"  Need  n't  be  provost  to  know  that.  He  falls,  the  ci-devant, 
having  swallowed  about  six  inches  of  blade." 

"  That  was  more  than  was  necessar}-." 

"  Confound  it,  general,"  said  Falou,  laughing  at  the  answer 
he  was  about  to  make,  "  one  can't  be  always  sure  of  giving 
the  right  measure." 

"I  am  not  blaming  you,  Falou." 

"  So  he  fell  ;  I  saw  a  magnificent  horse  which  no  longer 
had  a  master  ;  I  caught  its  bridle  ;  same  time  I  saw  the 
captain  without  a  horse,  and  I  said  to  myself  :  '  Here  's  the 
very  thing  !  '  I  galloped  up  to  him  ;  he  was  struggling  like 
a  devil  in  holy  water  in  the  midst  of  five  or  six  aristocrats. 
I  killed  one  and  wounded  another.  '  Come,  captain,'  said 
I,  '  up  you  go  ;  '  and  the  minute  he  got  his  foot  in  the  stirrup 
up  he  was,  sure  enough,  and  that 's  the  whole  of  it,  so  !  " 

"  No,  that  is  not  the  whole  of  it,"  said  Abattucci  ;  "  for 
you  can't  make  me  a  present  of  a  hors*" 

"  Why  can't  I  ?  are  you  so  proud  you  won't  take  a  pres- 
ent from  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not,  and  the  proof  is,  if  you  will  do  me  the 
honor  to  give  me  your  hand  —  " 

"  The  honor  is  all  for  me,  captain,"  said  Falou,  ad- 
vancing. 

Officer  and  private  shook  hands. 

"  I  am  paid,"  said  Falou  ;  "  and  indeed  I  ought  to  return 
something  —  but  no  money,  captain." 

"  All  the  same,  you  exposed  your  life  for  me  and  —  " 

"  Exposed  my  life  for  you  !  "  cried  Falou.  "  Pooh  !  I 
defended  it,  that 's  all.  Do  you  want  to  see  how  that 
ci-devant  was  coming  at  me  ?  Look  here." 

Falou  drew  his  sabre  and  showed  the  blade  with  a  gash 
almost  half  an  inch  deep. 

"  He  was  no  weakling,  I  '11  answer   for  that.     Besides, 


THE   CHASSEUR   FALOU   AND   CORPORAL   FARAUD.      177 

we  shall  meet  again  ;  you  can  do  me  a  return  in  kind, 
captain  ;  but  sell  you  a  horse,  I,  —  Falou  ?  Never  !  " 

And  Falou  was  making  for  the  door  when  the  general 
stopped  him,  saying  :  — 

"  Come  here,  my  man." 

Falou  turned  round,  quivering  with  emotion,  and  walked 
back  towards  the  general,  his  hand  to  his  kepi. 

"  You  come  from  Franche-Comté  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"  Yes,  general." 

«What  part?" 

"From  Boussière." 

"  Have  you  parents  ?  " 

"  An  old  mother,  if  you  call  that  parents  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  what  does  your  old  mother  do  ?  " 

"  Bless  her  !  poor  dear  woman,  she  makes  my  shirts 
and  knits  my  socks." 

"  What  does  she  live  on  ?  " 

"  What  I  send  her.  But  as  the  Bepublic  is  out  of  pocket 
and  I  have  n't  had  any  pay  these  live  mouths,  I  'm  afraid 
she  lives  pretty  badly  just  now.  However,  they  say,  thanks 
to  the  Prince  de  Condé's  waggon,  we  are  going  to  get  our 
back-pay  now.  Ah  !  the  good  prince  ;  my  mother  will 
bless  him." 

"  Bless  an  enemy  of  France  ?  " 

"  What  does  she  know  about  it  ?  the  good  God  will 
understand  she  's  drivelling." 

"  So  you  mean  to  send  her  your  pay  ?  " 

"Oh  !  I  '11  keep  a  trifle  for  a  drop  to  drink." 

"  Keep  it  all." 

"  And  the  old  woman  ?  " 

"I'll  take  care  of  her." 

"  General,"  said  Falou,  shaking  his  head,  "  I  don't  see 
that  clearly." 

"  Let  me  look  at  your  sabre." 

Falou  unbuckled  his  belt  and  presented  the  weapon  to 
Pichegru. 

"  Oh,"  he  said  as  he  did  so,  "it  is  in  a  dreadful  state." 

TOL.   I. — 12 


178  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  In  fact,"  said  the  general,  drawing  it  from  the  scab- 
bard, "  it  is  unfit  for  use  ;  take  mine." 

And  Fichegru,  unbuckling  his  sabre,  gave  it  to  Falou. 

'*  But,  general,"  said  the  chasseur,  "  what  am  I  to  do  with 
your  sabre  ?  " 

"  Parry  and  thrust  with  it." 

"  I  'd  never  dare  use  it  —  your  sabre  !  " 

"  Then  you  can  let  it  be  captured." 

"I!  not  if  I  live!" 

Putting  the  hilt  to  his  lips,  he  kissed  it. 

"Very  well;  when  the  sabre  of  honor  which  I  shall 
ask  for  you  comes,  you  can  return  mine." 

"  Heu  !  "  cried  Falou,  "  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you, 
general,  I  'd  rather  keep  yours." 

"Very  good,  keep  it,  animal!  and  stop  making  such 
difficulties." 

"Oh,  friends!"  cried  Falou,  rushing  out  of  the  room, 
"the  general  called  me  animal!  and  gave  me  his  sabre! 
Vive  la  République  !  " 

"  Well,  well  !  "  cried  a  voice  in  the  corridor  ;  "  that 's  no 
reason  why  you  should  bolt  head  foremost  into  your  friends, 
especially  when  they  are  delegated,  as  you  may  say,  ambas- 
sadors to  the  general." 

"  Ho  !  ho  !  "  laughed  Pichegru,  "  what  does  that  mean  ? 
Go  and  see,  Charles  ;  and  receive  the  ambassadors." 

Charles,  enchanted  to  have  an  active  part  in  the  piece 
that  was  being  played,  ran  to  the  door  and  returned  almost 
immediately. 

"  General,"  he  said,  "  they  are  delegates  from  the  regi- 
ment of  the  Indre,  who  have  come  in  the  name  of  their 
comrades,  with  Corporal  Faraud  at  their  head." 

"  Who  is  Corporal  Faraud  ?  " 

"  The  wolf  man  of  last  night." 

"  Last  night  he  was  a  private  soldier." 

"  Well,  to-night,  general,  he  is  a  corporal  ;  it  is  true  his 
chevrons  are  made  of  paper." 

"  Paper  chevrons  !  "  said  the  general,  frowning. 


THE   CHASSEUK   FALOU   AND   COEPORAL   FARAUD.      179 

"  Hang  it  !  I  don't  know,"  said  Charles. 

"  Bring  in  the  citizen  delegates  from  the  battalion  of 
the  Indre." 

Two  soldiers  entered  behind  Faraud,  who  walked  first, 
with  the  chevrons  of  a  corporal,  made  of  paper,  on  his 
sleeves. 

"What  does  all  this  mean  ?  "  demanded  Pichegru.  . 

"  General,"  said  Faraud,  carrying  his  hand  to  his  shako, 
"  these  are  delegates  from  the  battalion  of  the  Indre." 

"  So  I  see,"  said  Pichegru,  —  "  come  to  thank  me,  I  sup- 
pose, in  the  name  of  the  battalion,  for  the  addition  I  put  to 
their  pay." 

"  On  the  contrary,  general,  they  have  come  to  decline  it." 

"  Decline  it  !  and  why  ?  "  asked  Pichegru. 

"  Damn  it  !  general,"  said  Faraud,  with  a  peculiar  move- 
ment of  the  neck  that  was  his  alone,  "they  say  they 
fought  for  glory,  for  the  grandeur  of  the  Republic,  for 
the  rights  of  man,  and  for  nothing  else.  As  for  what  they 
did,  they  say  they  did  n't  do  more  than  their  comrades, 
and  consequently,  they  ought  n't  to  have  more  than  they. 
They  have  been  told,"  went  on  Faraud,  with  the  twist  of 
his  neck  by  which  he  expressed  all  his  sensations,  grave 
or  gay,  —  "  they  've  been  told  that  if  they  go  to  citizen 
Estève  they'll  get  their  pay,  —  a  fact  they  can't  believe; 
but  if  that  wonderful  tale  be  true,  general,  their  pay  is 
enough,  they  say." 

"  Do  you  mean  they  refuse  the  rest  ?  "  said  Pichegru. 

"  Out  and  out,"  replied  Faraud. 

"  And  the  dead,"  said  Pichegru,  "  do  they  refuse  it  ?  " 

"Who?"  asked  Faraud. 

"  The  dead." 

"  They  have  n't  been  consulted,  general." 

"  Well,  you  can  say  to  those  who  sent  you  that  I  never 
take  back  what  I  have  given  ;  the  gratuity  I  gave  to  the 
living  will  be  given  to  the  fathers  and  mothers,  brothers 
and  sisters,  sons  and  daughters  of  the  dead.  Have  you 
aay  objection  to  make  to  that  ?  " 


180  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

"None  in  the  world,  general." 

"  That 's  fortunate.     Xow,  come  here." 

"  I,  general  ?  "  said  Faraud,  twisting  his  neck. 

"  Yes,  you." 

"  I  'm  here,  general." 

"  What  are  those  sardines  you  've  got  on  your  arm  ?  " 

"  Those  are  my  chevrons  as  corporal,  general." 

"  Why  in  paper  ?  " 

"  Because  there  are  no  worsted  ones." 

"  Who  made  you  a  corporal  ?  " 

"  My  captain." 

"  What  is  your  captain's  name  ?  " 

"Eené  Savary." 

"  I  know  him  ;  a  young  fellow  of  nineteen  or  twenty." 

"  He  can  hit  hard  for  all  that,  I  tell  you,  general  !  " 

"  Why  did  he  make  you  a  corporal  ?  " 

"  You  know  very  well,"  said  Faraud,  with  his  accustomed 
twitch. 

"  No,  I  don't  know." 

"  You  told  me  to  make  two  prisoners." 

"Well?" 

"  I  made  them,  —  two  Prussians." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  " 

"  Kead  it  on  my  chevron." 

So  saying  he  raised  his  arm  and  put  the  chevron 
within  the  range  of  Pichegru's  eyes  ;  two  written  lines 
were  visible  thereon.     The  general  read  them  :  — 

The  fnsileer  Faraud,  2d  company  battalion  of  the  Indre,  has 
made  two  Prussian  prisoners,  for  which  reason  I  have  made  him 
corporal,  subject  to  the  ratification  of  the  commander-in-chief. 

René  Savary. 

"  I  did  in  fact  make  three  —  prisoners,  I  mean,"  said 
Faraud. 

"  Where  's  the  third  ?  " 

"  The  third  was  a  fine,  handsome  fellow,  an  émigré,  a 
cirdevant  ;  the  general  would  have  had  to  shoot  him,  which 


THE   CHASSEUR   FALOU    AND   COKPOKAL   FARAUD.      181 

I  knew  he  wouldn't  like  to  do,  or  spare  him,  and  that 

might  have  compromised  him." 
'•'  Ha  !  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then  I  let  him  —  well,  there  !  I  let  him  go." 
*'  Eight,"  said  Pichegru,  with  a  tear  in  his  eye,  ''  I  make 

you  sergeant." 


182  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

XXVI. 

THE   ENVOY    OF    THE    PRINCE. 

The  chasseur  Falou  and  Corporal  Faraud  have  not,  I  trust, 
made  you  forget  citizen  Fenouillot,  commercial  traveller  in 
wines  for  the  house  of  Fraissinet  at  Chalons,  nor  the  six 
bottles  of  champagne  which  his  gratitude  induced  him  to 
present  to  Fichegru. 

One  of  these  six  bottles  was  still  unopened  when  the 
general  resumed  his  place  at  table.  Citizen  Fenouillot 
uncorked  it,  or  rather  attempted  to  do  so,  in  a  clumsy 
manner  which  made  the  general  smile.  Pichegru  took 
the  bottle  from  the  traveller's  hand,  cut  the  strings,  and 
broke  the  wires  with  the  thumb  of  his  left  hand,  —  that  is, 
with  his  uninjured  thumb,  — and  sprang  the  cork. 

"  Come,  citizen,"  said  he,  "  a  last  glass  to  the  prosperity 
of  the  arms  of  the  Republic." 

The  commercial  traveller  raised  his  glass  higher  than 
any  of  the  others. 

"And  may  the  general,"  he  said,  "finish  gloriously  the 
campaign  he  has  so  gloriously  begun  !  " 

All  the  officers  joined  noisily  in  the  toast. 

"  And  now,"  said  Pichegru,  "  as  I  echo  the  wish  of  the 
citizen  expressed  in  that  toast,  we  have  not  a  moment  to 
lose.  Our  victory  of  to-day  is  but  the  prelude  to  two 
struggles  far  more  difficult  ;  we  have  two  fights  to  make 
before  we  can  reconquer  the  lines  of  Weissembourg,  lost 
by  my  predecessor.  Day  after  to-morrow  we  shall  attack 
Frœschwiller  ;  in  four  days,  the  lines  ;  on  the  fifth  we  shall 
be  in  Weissembourg  ;  the  sixth,  we  shall  have  raised  the 
siege  of  Landau."  Then,  addressing  Macdonald,  "  My  dear 
colonel,"  he  said,  "  you  are,  you  know,  my  right  eye  ;  I 
charge  you  with  visiting  all  the  posts,  and  showing  to  each 


THE   ENVOY   OF   THE    PRINCE.  183 

corps  the  ground  it  is  to  occupy.  You  will  command  the 
left  wing,  Abattucci  the  right,  I  the  centre  ;  see  that  the 
men  want  for  nothing,  —  no  superfluities,  of  course,  but  they 
ought  to  have  rather  more  than  usual  to-day."  Then,  turn- 
ing to  the  other  officers,  Ixe  added,  '•  You  all  know,  citizens, 
the  regiments  with  which  you  are  in  the  habit  of  fighting  ; 
you  know  those  on  whom  you  can  depend.  Assemble  their 
officers  and  tell  them  I  have  written  to-day  to  the  Committee 
of  Public  Safety  that  on  the  day  after  to-morrow  we  shall 
sleep  at  Frœschwiller,  and  in  a  week,  at  the  latest,  in  Lan- 
dau ;  tell  them  to  remember  one  thing,  —  that  my  head  will 
answer  if  I  fail  of  my  word," 

The  officers  rose,  and  each  prepared,  by  buckling  on  his 
sabre  and  taking  his  hat,  to  execute  the  orders  of  the 
commander-in-chief. 

"  As  for  you,  Charles,"  continued  Pichegru,  "  go  to  the 
room  they  've  prepared  for  us  and  see  that  the  three  mat- 
tresses are  arranged  as  usual.  You'll  find  on  a  chair  a 
little  bundle  addressed  to  you;  open  it,  and  if  what  it 
contains  pleases  you,  use  it  at  once,  —  I  ordered  it  for  you. 
If  the  bruise  you  got  this  morning  hurts  your  chest  come 
and  complain  to  me,  and  don't  go  to  the  surgeon-major." 

"  Thank  you,  general,"  said  Charles,  "  but  I  don't  want 
any  better  compress  than  the  one  which  flattened  the  ball. 
As  for  the  ball  itself,"  added  the  lad,  pulling  it  from  his 
pocket,  "  I  've  kept  that  to  show  my  father." 

"And  you  can  roll  it  up  in  a  certificate  I  will  give  you. 
Go  along,  my  boy,  go." 

Charles  went  off  ;  Pichegru  cast  his  eyes  on  citizen 
Penouillot,  who  was  still  sitting  in  his  place  ;  then  he 
bolted  both  doors  which  gave  access  to  the  dining-room, 
and  again  sat  down  opposite  to  his  guest,  who  seemed  a 
good  deal  surprised  by  these  actions  of  the  general. 

"  There  !  "  said  the  latter,  "  now  for  us  two,  citizen." 

"  For  us  two,  general  ?  "  repeated  the  commercial  traveller. 

"  Let  us  play  above  board." 

"  I  ask  nothing  better." 


184  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Your  name  is  not  Fenouillot  ;  you  are  no  relation  to 
the  lawyer  at  Besançon  ;  you  were  not  the  prisoner  of  the 
Prince  de  Condé  ;  you  are  his  agent." 

"  All  that  is  true,  general." 

"  And  you  have  stayed  here,  at  the  risk  of  being  shot, 
to  make  me  certain  royalist  propositions." 

"  That  is  also  true." 

"  You  are  saying  to  yourself  :  *  General  Pichegru  is  a 
brave  man  ;  he  knows  there  's  a  good  deal  of  courage  in 
what  I  am  doing  ;  he  will  refuse  my  proposals,  but  he  will 
not  have  me  shot  ;  and  he  will  send  me  back  to  the  prince 
with  his  refusal.'  " 

"  True  again,  —  except  that  I  hope,  after  having  listened 
to  me  —  " 

"  I  warn  you  that  there  is  a  case  in  which,  after  having 
listened  to  you,  I  shall  have  you  shot." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  If  you  dare  to  put  a  price  upon  my  treachery." 

"  Or  your  devotion." 

"  We  will  not  discuss  words,  but  things.  Are  you  dis- 
posed to  answer  me  on  all  points  ?  " 

"  On  all  points,  general,  yes,  I  am  so  disposed." 

"  I  shall  put  you  through  a  close  examination,  I  warn 
you." 

"  Question  me." 

Pichegru  drew  his  pistols  from  his  belt  and  laid  them, 
one  on  each  side  of  his  plate. 

"  General,"  said  the  pretended  commercial  traveller, 
laughing,  "  is  that  what  you  call  playing  above  board  ?  " 

"  Have  the  kindness  to  put  my  pistols  on  the  chimney- 
piece,  which  is  nearer  to  you  than  to  me,"  said  Pichegru  ; 
"they  annoy  me  in  my  belt." 

He  pushed  the  pistols  within  reach  of  the  other's  hand  ; 
the  latter  rose,  laid  them  on  the  chimney-piece,  and  sat 
down  again.  Pichegru  made  an  inclination  of  his  head,  — 
a  salutation  which  the  other  returned. 

"Now,"  said  Pichegru,  ''let  us  begin." 


THE   ENVOY   OF   THE   PRINCE.  18Ô 

"  I  am  ready." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Fauche-Borel." 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Neufchatel.  I  might,  however,  have  been  named 
Fenouillot,  and  born  in  Besançon,  inasmucli  as  my  family 
is  from  Franche-Comté,  and  quitted  it  only  after  the  revo- 
cation of  the  Edict  of  Nantes." 

"  In  that  case  I  should  have  recognized  you  for  a  com- 
patriot by  your  accent." 

''Pardon  me,  general,  may  I  ask  how  you  came  to  dis- 
cover I  was  not  a  traveller  in  wines  ?  " 

"By  your  way  of  uncorking  a  bottle.  Another  time, 
citizen,  choose  a  different  business." 

"Which?" 

"  That  of  publisher,  for  instance." 

"  So  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  speak  of  you." 

"  In  what  manner  ?  " 

"As  a  rabid  enemy  of  the  Republic,  and  the  author  of 
royalist  pamphlets.  Excuse  me  if  I  continue  to  examine 
you." 

"Go  on,  general,  I  am  at  your  orders." 

"How  did  you  become  the  agent  of  the  Prince  de 
Condé  ?  " 

"  My  name  was  first  noticed  by  Monsieur  le  Régent  ^  on 
the  titlepage  of  a  pamphlet  entitled,  '  Notes  on  the  Regency 
of  Louis-Stanislas  Xavier,  son  of  France,  uncle  of  the  King, 
and  Regent  of  France.'  He  noticed  it  a  second  time  when 
I  made  the  inhabitants  of  Neufchatel  sign  the  'Act  of 
Union.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Pichegru,  "  and  I  know  that  from  that  time 
your  house  became  the  rendezvous  of  émigrés,  and  a  hot-bed 
of  the  counter-revolution." 

^  Title  borne  by  Louis  XVIII.  as  long  as  the  son  of  Louis  XVI.  wa» 
living. 


186  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

'•'The  Prince  de  Condé  knew  it  too,  and  sent  a  certain 
Montgaillard  to  ask  if  I  would  attach  myself  to  him." 

''  I  suppose  you  know  that  Montgaillard  is  double-faced  ?  " 
said  Pichegru. 

"  I  fear  so,"  replied  Fauche-Borel. 

"  He  acts  for  the  prince  under  two  names,  —  Roques  and 
Pinaud." 

"  You  are  well  informed,  general  ;  but  Monsieur  de  Mont- 
gaillard has  nothing  to  do  with  me  ;  we  serve  the  same 
prince,  that 's  all." 

"  Let  us  resume,  then.  You  were  saying  that  the  prince 
sent  Montgaillard  to  ask  if  you  would  attach  yourself  to 
him." 

"  Yes.  He  told  me  that  the  prince  had  his  headquarters 
at  Dawendorff,  and  would  receive  me  there  with  pleasure. 
I  started  at  once  ;  I  went  to  Weissembourg  in  order  to  cheat 
your  spies  and  make  them  believe  I  was  going  to  Bavaria. 
I  then  went  down  to  Haguenau,  and  from  Haguenau  I 
reached  Dawendorff." 

"  How  many  days  have  you  been  here  ?  " 

«  Two  days." 

"How  did  the  prince  open  the  subject  ?" 

"  In  the  simplest  way.  I  was  presented  to  him  by  the 
Chevalier  de  Contye.  '  Monsieur  Fauche-Borel,'  said  my 
introducer.  The  prince  rose  and  came  to  me.  I  suppose 
you  wish  me,  general,  to  tell  yovi  exactly  what  he  said  ?  " 

"Yes,  exactly." 

"  '  My  dear  Monsieur  Fauche,'  he  said,  '  I  know  you 
through  my  companions-in-arms,  who  have  told  me  twenty 
times  how  hospitable  you  have  been  to  them.  I  have  there- 
fore desired  to  see  you  and  offer  you  a  mission  which  is  as 
honorable  as  it  will  be  advantageous.  I  have  seen  for  a 
long  time  that  there  is  little  use  in  relying  on  foreigners. 
The  replacing  of  our  family  on  the  throne  of  France  is  only 
a  pretext  with  them.  The  enemy  is  always  an  enemy  ;  they 
are  doing  everything  in  their  own  interests,  and  nothing 
really  for  France.    No,  it  is  from  within  that  we  must  come 


THE  ENVOY  OF  THE  PEINCE.  187 

to  our  restoration  ;  and,'  he  continued,  laying  his  hand  on 
my  arm,  '  I  have  thought  of  you,  a  Frenchman,  to  carry  a 
message  from  the  king  to  General  Pichegru.  The  Conven- 
tion has  just  ordered  the  junction  of  the  Army  of  the  Khine 
with  that  of  the  Moselle,  and  it  has  subordinated  Pichegru 
to  Hoche.  He  will  be  furious  ;  profit  by  that  moment  to 
induce  him  to  serve  the  cause  of  monarchy;  make  him 
understand  that  the  Eepublic  is  a  mere  chimera.'  " 

Pichegru  had  listened  to  tiiis  tirade  with  perfect  calm- 
ness, and  he  smiled  at  the  conclusion  of  it.  Fauche-Borel 
expected  some  sort  of  reply,  and  he  brought  in  the  appoint- 
ment of  Hoche  as  commander-in-chief  for  a  climax;  but  to 
this  part  of  the  ambassador's  discourse  Pichegru  had  replied 
by  an  amused  smile. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said. 

Fauche-Borel  resumed  :  — 

"  It  was  in  vain  for  me  to  tell  the  prince  that  I  was  quite 
unworthy  of  such  an  honor.  I  assured  him  I  had  no  other 
ambition  than  to  serve  him  according  to  my  means,  —  that 
is,  as  an  active  and  zealous  man.  The  prince  shook  his 
head  and  said  :  '  Monsieur  Fauche,  you  or  no  man.'  Then, 
laying  his  hand  on  my  heart,  he  added  :  '  You  have  mettle 
enough  there  for  just  such  missions  ;  you  could  make  the 
first  diplomatist  in  the  world.'  If  I  had  not  been  a  royalist 
I  might  have  found  good  reasons  to  refuse  ;  but  being  one, 
my  ambition  is  to  serve  the  royal  cause  in  any  w^ay  what- 
ever, and  I  yielded.  I  told  you,  citizen  general,  how  I  came 
by  way  of  Weissembourg  and  Haguenau  to  Dawendorff.  I 
was  just  debating  how  to  go  from  Dawendorff  to  Auenheim, 
when,  this  morning,  your  advanced  guard  came  in  sight. 
'Pichegru  spares  you  the  trip,'  said  the  prince;  'it  is  a 
good  omen.'  It  was  then  agreed  that  if  you  were  beaten  I 
should  go  to  you;  for  you  know  the  fate  the  Convention 
awards  to  its  defeated  generals.  If  you  were  the  victor 
I  was  to  await  you  here,  and,  by  help  of  the  little  fable 
of  the  wine,  introduce  myself  to  you  personally.  You  are 
the  victor  ;  you  have  seen  through  my  little  fable  ;  I  am 


188  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

at  your  mercy  ;  aud  I  offer  but  one  excuse  on  my  own 
behalf,  —  my  profound  belief  that  I  am  acting  for  the  hap- 
piness of  France,  and  my  intense  desire  to  save  the  shedding 
of  blood.  I  await  with  conMence  the  decision  of  your 
justice." 

Fauche-Borel  rose,  bowed,  and  sat  down  again  as  calm 
apparently  as  though  he  had  just  proposed  a  toast  to  the 
Nation  at  a  patriotic  banquet. 


PICHEGRU'S   AXSWER.  189 

XXVII. 

PICHEGKU'S    ANSWER. 

"MoiisiEUR,"  replied  Picliegru,  using  the  old  form  of 
address,  abolished  by  law  iu  France  for  over  a  year,  "if 
you  were  a  spy  I  should  have  you  shot  ;  if  you  were  an 
ordinary  inciter  to  desertion  I  should  send  you  before  the 
Revolutionary  tribunal,  which  would  guillotine  you.  But 
you  are  a  confidential  agent  who  bases  his  opinion  more,  I 
think,  on  sympathies  than  on  principles.  I  shall  reply  to 
you  coldly  and  seriously,  and  I  shall  send  you  back  to  the 
Prince  de  Coudé  with  my  answer.  I  am  of  the  people,  but 
my  birth  does  not  influence  my  opinions  ;  they  are  the 
result,  not  of  the  caste  in  which  I  was  born,  but  of  the  long 
historical  studies  which  I  have  made.  Nations  are  great 
organized  bodies  subject  to  human  maladies  :  sometimes 
there  is  debility,  and  you  must  treat  them  by  tonics  ;  some- 
times plethora,  and  they  need  bleeding.  You  tell  me  that 
the  Republic  is  a  chimera,  and  I  am  of  your  opinion,  for 
the  present  at  least.  "We  have  not  yet  reached  a  republic  ; 
we  are  still  in  a  period  of  revolution.  For  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years  kings  have  ruined  us  ;  for  three  hundred  3-ears 
the  great  lords  have  oppressed  us  ;  for  nine  centuries  priests 
have  held  us  in  bondage.  The  moment  came  when  these 
burdens  were  too  heavy  for  the  loins  that  bore  them  ;  and 
the  year  '89  proclaimed  the  rights  of  man,  relegated  the 
clergy  to  the  status  of  other  subjects  of  the  kingdom,  and 
abolished  privileges,  whatsoever  they  were.  The  king  re- 
mained ;  his  rights  were  not  yet  touched.  They  said  to  him  : 
'Will  you  accept  France  such  as  we  have  now  made  her, 
with  her  three  orders,  —  commons,  clergy,  and  nobles,  each 
weighing  against  the  others  ?  Will  you  accept  the  Consti- 
tution, with  the  privileges  it  leaves  to  you,  the  civil  list  it 
grants,  the  duties  it  imposes  upon  you  ?     Reflect  soberly. 


190  THE    FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

If  you  refuse,  say  Xo,  aud  abdicate  ;  if  you  say  Yes,  swear 
it.'  The  king  said  Yes,  and  swore  it.  The  following  day 
he  left  Paris,  and,  certain  as  he  felt  (all  precautions  having 
been  taken)  of  reaching  the  frontier,  he  sent  to  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  nation  who,  the  night  before,  had  received 
his  oath,  this  message  :  '  I  swore  by  constraint  and  force  ; 
îuy  oath  was  of  the  lips,  not  the  will  ;  I  abdicate  my  duties  ; 
[  take  back  my  rights  and  privileges  ;  I  shall  return  with  a 
foreign  enemy  to  punish  your  revolt.'  " 

"You  forget,  general,"  said  Fauche-Borel,  "that  what 
you  call  the  foreign  enemy  are  his  family." 

"Ah,"  said  Pichegru,  "that's  just  the  evil  of  it!  It  is 
an  evil  that  the  family  of  the  King  of  France  should  be  the 
enemy  of  France  ;  but  so  it  is.  Louis  XVI.,  the  son  of  a 
princess  of  Saxony  and  of  a  son  of  Louis  XV.,  has  not  even, 
one  half  of  French  blood  in  his  veins.  He  marries  an 
Austrian  archduchess,  and  these  are  the  quarterings  of  his 
royal  arms  :  1st  and  3d,  Lorraine  ;  2d,  Austria  ;  and  4th 
alone,  France.  It  results,  as  you  say,  that  when  the  king, 
Louis  XVI.,  quarrelled  with  his  people  he  appealed  to  his 
family  ;  and  as  that  family  was  the  enemy,  he  appealed  to 
the  enemy  ;  and  as,  at  his  call,  the  enemy  entered  France, 
the  king  committed  the  crime  of  treason  to  the  nation, 
which  is  equal  to  that  of  treason  to  royalty,  if  not  greater. 
From  all  this  came  a  dreadful  thing.  While  the  king  was 
imploring  the  success  of  his  family's  arms  he  was  praying 
for  the  shame  of  the  armies  of  France  ;  the  queen,  knowing 
that  the  Prussians  were  at  Verdun,  counted  the  days  till 
they  could  be  in  Paris  ;  then  came  that  dreadful  thing  I 
spoke  of  :  France,  maddened  with  hatred  and  patriotism, 
rose  as  one  man.  Resolved  to  endure  no  longer  the  enemy 
before  her,  the  Austrians  and  Prussians  ;  the  enemy  within 
her,  the  king  and  queen  ;  the  enemy  behind  her,  the  nobles 
and  the  aristocracy,  —  it  came  to  pass  that  the  nation  con- 
founded all  her  enemies  in  one  ;  cannonaded  the  Prussians 
at  Valmy,  decimated  the  Austrians  at  Jemmapes,  stabbed 
the  aristocrats  in  Paris,  and  beheaded  the  king  and  queen 


PICHEGKU'S   ANSWER.  191 

on  the  place  de  la  Révolution.  By  means  of  that  terrible 
convulsion  she  thought  she  was  cured  !  She  was  mistaken. 
The  family  which  made  war  upon  France,  under  pretext  of 
securing  Louis  XVI.  on  his  throne,  continued  the  war  under 
pretext  of  putting  Louis  XVIIL  on  it,  but  in  reality  to  enter 
France  and  parcel  her  among  themselves.  Spain  wants 
Roussillon ;  Austria,  Alsace  and  Franche-Comté;  Prussia, 
the  margraviates  of  Anspach  and  Bayreuth.  The  nobles 
divided  themselves  into  three  classes  :  some  fought  France 
on  the  Rhine  and  on  the  Loire  ;  others  conspired  in  her 
midst  ;  war  without  and  within  ;  foreign  war,  civil  war. 
That  was  the  cause  of  the  massacre  of  thousands  of  human 
beings  in  the  prisons  ;  of  thousands  of  men  and  women  being 
dragged  to  the  guillotine.  And  why  was  all  this  ?  Because 
the  king,  having  taken  an  oath,  would  not  keep  it  ;  and 
instead  of  casting  himself  into  the  arms  of  his  people,  — 
that  is,  France,  —  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  his  family, 
—  that  is,  the  enemy." 

"Then  you  approve  of  the  massacres  of  September?" 

"  I  deplore  them.  But  what  can  you  do  with  an  outraged 
people  ?  " 

"  You  approve  the  death  of  the  king  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  terrible.  But  the  king  should  have  kept  his 
oath." 

"  You  approve  the  political  executions  ?  " 

"  I  think  them  abominable.  But  the  king  had  no  right 
to  appeal  to  the  enemy." 

"Ah  !  you  may  say  what  you  like,  general,  the  year  '93  is 
a  fatal  year." 

"  For  royalty,  yes  ;  for  France,  no." 

"Well,  let  us  put  aside  the  civil  war,  foreign  war, 
massacres,  executions  ;  these  millions  of  assignats  mean 
bankruptcy." 

''  So  be  it." 

"  I  say  so  too.  in  the  sense  that  royalty  will  have  the 
glory  of  restoring  credit." 

"  Credit  will  be  restored  by  the  division  of  estates." 


192  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  seen  that  the  Convention  decrees  that  the 
estates  of  the  émigrés  and  the  property  of  all  convents  shall 
become  a  part  of  the  national  domain  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  what  else  ?  " 

"  Have  you  not  seen  that  another  decree  of  the  Conven- 
tion authorizes  the  purchase  of  this  national  domain  with 
assignats,  which,  for  such  purchases,  shall  be  held  at  par, 
and  cannot  be  depreciated  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that." 

"Well,  my  dear  monsieur,  all  is  there/  With  an  assignat 
of  a  thousand  francs,  insufficient  to  buy  a  ten-pound  loaf  at 
a  baker's,  a  poor  man  may  buy  an  acre  of  land  and  till  it 
himself,  and  furnish  bread  for  himself  and  his  family." 

**  Who  will  dare  to  buy  stolen  property  ?  " 

"  Confiscated  property,  which  is  not  at  all  the  same 
thing." 

"  Either  way,  buyers  will  not  want  to  be  the  accomplices 
of  the  Kevoh^tion," 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  has  been  sold  this  year  ?  " 

"No." 

"  One  thousand  millions.    Next  year  they  '11  sell  double." 

"  Next  year  !  Do  j'ou  think  the  Republic  can  last  a  year 
longer  ?  " 

"  The  Revolution,  yes  ?  " 

"  The  Revolution  ?  But,  as  Vergniaud  says,  the  Revo- 
lution is  like  Saturn  ;  it  will  eat  its  own  children." 

"  It  has  many  children,  and  some  are  difficult  of  digestion." 

"  Well,  it  has  devoured  the  Girondins." 

"The  Cordeliers  are  left." 

"  Some  day  the  Jacobins  will  make  but  one  mouthful  of 
them." 

'*  Then  the  Jacobins  will  be  left." 

"  The  Jacobins  !  have  they  any  men  like  Danton,  like 
Camille  Desmoulins  ?  " 

"  They  have  men  like  Robes^^ierre  and  Saint-Just  ;  and 
they  are  the  only  party  who  follow  essential  truth." 


PICHEGRU'S   ANSWER.  193 

'<  After  them  ?  " 

"  After  them,  I  don't  see  clearly  ;  I  am  very  much  afraid 
the  Revolution  will  end  with  them." 

"  But  between  then  and  now,  oceans  of  blood  will 
flow." 

"  Revolutions  are  thirsty." 

"  But  those  men  are  tigers." 

"  What  I  fear  in  revolutions  is  not  tigers,  but  foxes." 

"  And  yet  you  consent  to  serve  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  because  they,  even  they,  are  the  men  of  France  ; 
they  are  the  Sj'llas  and  Mariuses  who  brace  the  nation, 
not  the  Caligulas  and  Neros  who  enervate  it." 

<'  Then  you  think  that  each  of  the  parties  you  have  named 
will  rise  and  fall  in  turn  ?  " 

"  If  the  genius  of  France  is  logical,  it  will  be  so." 

"  Explain  yourself." 

"  Each  party  as  it  succeeds  to  power  will  do  great  things, 
for  which  the  gratitude  of  our  children  will  reward  it,  and 
commit  great  crimes,  which  its  contemporaries  will  punish  ; 
and  to  each  })arty  will  happen  that  which  happened  to  the 
Girondins.  The  Girondins  killed  the  king,  —  remark,  I  do 
not  say  royalty,  —  and  now  they  are  succeeded  by  the  Corde- 
liers; the  Cordeliers  killed  the  Girondins,  and  according 
to  all  probability,  they  themselves  will  be  killed  by  the 
Jacobins  ;  and  finally,  the  Jacobins,  that  last  expression  of 
the  Revolution,  will  be  killed  —  by  whom  ?  I  tell  you  I 
don't  know.  When  they  are  all  killed  you  can  come  and 
see  me  again,  ^lonsieur  Fauche-Borel,  for  there  won't  be 
any  question  of  blood  then." 

"  What  will  there  be  a  question  of  ?  " 

"  Our  shame,  probably.  I  may  serve  a  government  that  I 
hate,  but  I  will  never  serve  a  government  that  I  despise. 
My  motto  is  that  of  Thraseas  :  Non  sibi  déesse." 

"  And  now  —  your  answer  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is.  The  moment  is  ill-chosen  to  attempt  any- 
thing against  the  Revolution,  which  proves  its  strength  by 
cutting  the  throats  of  its  enemies  from  Xantes  to  Toulon, 

VOL.    I. — 13 


194  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

from  Lyon  to  Paris,  —  five  hundred  persons  a  day.  Wait 
till  she  has  had  enough  of  it." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  Then,"  continued  Pichegru,  gravely,  with  frowning 
brows,  "  as  it  must  not  be  that  France,  fatigued  by  action, 
should  exhaust  herself  in  reaction,  and  as  I  have  no  more 
confidence  in  the  clemency  of  the  Bourbons  than  I  have  in 
the  moderation  of  the  people,  the  day  on  which  I  lend  ray 
hand  to  the  return  of  any  member  of  that  family,  on  that  day 
I  shall  have  in  my  pocket  a  charter  like  that  of  England, 
or  a  constitution  like  that  of  America,  — a  charter  or  consti- 
tution in  which  the  rights  of  the  people  shall  be  guaranteed 
and  the  duties  of  the  sovereign  defined  ;  that  will  be  the 
condition  of  my  service,  nine  qua  non  !  I  am  willing  to  be 
Monk,  but  a  Monk  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  Monk  of 
'93,  preparing  the  presidency  of  Washington,  and  not  the 
royalty  of  Charles  II." 

"  Monk  made  his  own  conditions,  general." 

"  I  shall  make  none  but  those  of  France." 

"Well,  general,  his  Highness  has  taken  the  initiative, 
and,  in  case  you  should  decide,  here  is  a  paper  written  by 
his  own  hand  containing  offers  which  go,  I  am  sure,  far 
beyond  the  conditions  you  would  have  made  for  yourself." 

Pichegru,  who,  as  a  true  Franche-Comtean  was  a  great 
smoker,  had  been  filling  his  pipe  during  the  latter  part  of  his 
conversation  with  Fauche-Borel,  and  this  important  opera- 
tion was  just  concluded  as  the  envoy  handed  him  the  paper 
which  contained  the  offers  of  the  Prince  de  Condé. 

"  But,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing,  "  I  thought  I  had  made 
you  understand  that  if  I  decided  at  all,  it  would  not  be  for 
two  or  three  years." 

"  So  be  it  ;  but  nothing  prevents  you,  meantime,  from 
knowing  the  contents  of  this  paper,"  replied  Fauche-Borel. 

"Bah!"  said  Pichegru,  "when  we  get  there  it  will  be 
time  enough." 

Then,  without  casting  a  look  at  the  paper,  without  even 
unfolding  it,  he  touched  it  to  the  flame  of  the  fire,  lighted 


PICHEGRU'S   ANSWEE.  195 

his  pipe  with  it,  and  did  uot  let  it  go  till  it  was  entirely 
consumed.  Fauche-Borel,  thinking  this  was  done  in  mere 
absent-mindedness,  made  a  motion  to  catch  Pichegru's  arm. 
But  perceiving,  almost  instantly,  that  it  was  the  act  of  a 
reflecting  man,  he  let  him  complete  it,  and  involuntarily  he 
raised  his  hat. 

At  that  moment  the  noise  of  a  horse  entering  the  court- 
yard at  a  gallop  made  both  men  turn  their  heads.  It  was 
Macdonald  returning,  his  horse  in  a  lather,  and  it  was  easy 
to  see  that  he  brought  important  news.  Pichegru,  who  had 
bolted  the  door,  went  quickly  to  unbolt  it  ;  he  did  not 
want  to  be  found  locked  in  with  the  pretended  commercial 
traveller,  whose  real  name  and  errand  might  later  become 
known. 

Almost  immediately  the  door  opened  and  Macdonald 
appeared.  His  cheeks,  naturally  ruddy,  were  redder  than 
usual,  lashed  as  they  had  been  by  the  north  wind  and 
a  fine  rain. 

"General,"  he  said,  "the  advanced-guard  of  the  Army  of 
the  Moselle  is  at  Pfafîenholïen  ;  the  whole  army  is  follow- 
ing, and  General  Hoche  with  his  staff  are  immediately 
behind  me." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Pichegru,  with  an  expression  of  hearty 
satisfaction,  "  that 's  good  news,  Macdonald.  I  said  that  in 
eight  days  we  should  recover  the  lines  of  Weisserabourg,  but 
now,  with  a  general  like  Hoche  and  men  like  those  of  the 
Army  of  the  Moselle,  we  shall  have  them  in  four." 

He  had  scarcely  said  the  words  before  the  staff  of  young 
officers  who  accompanied  Hoche  flooded,  so  to  speak,  the 
courtyard,  the  pavement  of  which  disappeared  beneatii 
horses,  plumes,  and  floating  scarfs.  The  old  town-hall 
shook  to  its  foundations  ;  it  was  as  though  a  tidal  wave  ol' 
youth,  courage,  patriotism,  and  honor  had  dashed  against 
its  walls.  In  an  instant  every  horseman  was  afoot  with 
his  cloak  off. 

"  General,"  said  Fauche-Borel,  "  I  think  I  had  better 
retire." 


196  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  No,  ou  the  contraiy,  stay/'  said  Pichegru  ;  "  you  can 
tell  the  Prince  de  Coudé  that  the  motto  of  the  generals  of 
the  Republic  is  really  and  truly  Fraternity  !  " 

Pichegru  stood  facing  the  door  to  receive  the  man  whom 
the  government  sent  him  as  commander-in-chief.  A  little 
behind  him  on  his  left  was  Fauche-Borel,  on  his  right  Mac- 
donald.  The  flood  of  young  ofi&cers  was  heard  ascending 
the  stairs  with  the  joyous  laughter  of  careless  good-humor  ; 
but  the  moment  Hoche,  who  was  at  their  head,  opened  the 
door  and  they  saw  Pichegru,  silence  fell.  Hoche  took  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  and  the  whole  staff,  bareheaded,  entered 
after  him  and  ranged  themselves  in  a  circle  round  the 
room.  Then  Hoche,  approaching  Pichegru  and  bowing  low, 
said  :  — 

"  General,  the  Convention  has  committed  an  error.  It 
has  appointed  me,  a  soldier  twenty-five  years  old,  comman- 
der-in-chief of  the  united  armies  of  the  Rhine  and  the 
Moselle,  forgetting  tliat  one  of  the  great  warriors  of  our 
epoch  was  already  in  command  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine.  This  error  1  have  come  to  repair,  general,  by  ])ut- 
ting  myself  under  your  guidance  and  begging  you  to  teach 
me  the  rough  and  difficult  business  of  real  war.  I  have 
instinct,  you  have  knowledge  ;  I  am  twenty-five,  you  are 
thirty-three  ;  you  are  Miltiades,  I  am  scarcely  Themis- 
tocles  ;  the  laurels  on  which  you  lie  hinder  me  from 
sleeping  ;  I  ask  to  share  your  bod."  Then  turning  to  his 
ofiicers,  who  were  standing  with  their  heads  inclined,  hat  in 
hand,  — 

"  Citizens,"  he  said,  "  this  is  our  general-in-chief.     In  the 
name  of  the  safety  of  the  Republic  and  the  glory  of  France 
I  request  you,  and  if  need  be  I  order  you.  to  obey  him  as 
I  shall  obey  him  myself." 
Pichegru  listened  smiling.     Hoche  continued  :  — 

"  I  have  not  come  to  take  away  from  you  the  glory  of 
recovering  the  lines  of  Weissembourg,  a  work  which  you 
began  so  admirably  yesterday.  Your  plan  is  of  course 
already  made  ;  I  will  adopt  it,  —  too  happy  to   serve  you 


PICHEGRU'S   ANSWER.  197 

as  aid  in  that  glorious  work."  Then,  stretching  out  his 
liand  towards  Pichegru,  he  continued  :  "  I  swear  obedience 
in  all  matters  of  war  to  my  elder,  my  master,  my 
model,  to  the  illustrious  general,  Pichegru.  Your  turn, 
citizens." 

The  whole  staff,  with  a  single  gesture,  stretched  out 
their  hands,  and  with  a  single  voice,  swore. 

"  Your  hand,  general,"  said  Hoche. 

"  In  my  arms,"  replied  Pichegru. 

Hoche  flung  himself  into  Pichegru's  arms,  who  pressed 
him  to  his  heart.  Turning  to  Fauche-Borel,  all  the  time 
with  his  arm  round  his  young  colleague's  neck,  Pichegru 
said  :  — 

"  Tell  the  Prince  de  Condé  what  you  have  seen,  citizen  ; 
and  add  that  we  shall  attack  him  to-morrow  at  seven  in 
the  morning;  we  owe  to  a  compatriot  the  civility  of  giv- 
ing notice." 

Fauche-Borel  bowed. 

"  The  last  of  your  compatriots,"  he  said,  "  died  with  that 
Thraseas  whom  you  were  citing  to  me  just  now  ;  you  are 
Romans  of  old  Rome." 

And  he  departed. 


198  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

XXVIII. 

A    DRUM-MARRIAGE. 

The  same  day,  about  four  in  the  aiternoou  the  two  generals 
were  bending  over  a  large  military  map  of  the  department 
of  the  Lower  Rhine.  A  few  feet  away  from  them  Charles 
was  writing,  dressed  in  a  becoming  coat  of  the  national 
blue,  with  collar  and  trimmings  of  sky  blue,  and  wearing 
the  red  fez  of  all  headquarter  secretaries  ;  this  outfit  was 
the  present  which  Pichegru  had  ordered  for  him. 

The  two  generals  had  just  decided  that  the  next  day, 
December  21,  should  be  employed  in  marching  round  the 
curve  which  separates  Dawendorff  from  the  heights  of 
Reischoifen,  Frœschwiller,  and  Woerth,  where  the  Prussians 
were  intrenched.  These  heights  taken,  communication  with 
Weissembourg  would  be  cut  off,  and  Haguenau,  being  iso- 
lated, must  surrender.  The  army  was  to  march  in  three  col- 
umns ;  two  to  attack  in  front  ;  the  third  was  to  file  through 
the  woods  and  rallying  to  the  cannon,  take  the  Prussians  in 
flank.  As  each  of  these  decisions  was  made  Charles  wrote 
it  down  and  Pichegru  signed  it  ;  then  the  commanders  of 
the  various  corps,  who  were  in  the  next  room,  were  called 
in,  and  each  received  his  instructions  and  departed  to  rejoin 
his  command  and  hold  himself  ready  to  execute  the  order. 

At  this  moment  word  was  brought  to  Hoche  that  his 
rear-guard,  finding  no  room  in  the  village,  refused  to 
bivouac  in  the  fields,  and  showed  signs  of  insubordination. 
Hoche  asked  the  number  of  the  battalion  ;  they  told  him 
it  was  the  third. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Hoche;  "go  and  tell  the  third  bat- 
talion, from  me,  that  it  will  not  have  the  honor  of  fighting 
in  the  next  battle." 

And  he  went  back  tranquilly  to  his  work. 


A  DRUM-MARRIAGE.  199 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  four  soldiers  of  the  third  bat- 
talion appeared,  in  the  name  of  their  comrades,  to  beg  the 
general's  pardon  and  ask  that  the  battalion,  which  was 
going  to  encamp  at  once  in  the  open,  might  have  the 
advance  in  the  coming  battle. 

"  The  advance  ?  "  said  Pichegru,  "  that 's  impossible  ;  I 
have  promised  it  as  a  reward  to  the  battalion  of  the  Indre  ; 
they  '11  march  at  the  head  ;  the  3d  battalion  may  come 
second." 

The  last  orders  were  just  being  sent  off  when  the  sound 
of  a  barrel  organ  was  heard  under  the  windows,  playing 
the  air  of  the  patriot's  hymn  :  "  Allons,  enfants  de  la 
patrie  !  "  Hoche  paid  no  attention  to  the  serenade  ;  Piche- 
gru on  the  contrary,  listened  attentively  as  the  first  notes 
were  heard  ;  then  he  went  to  the  window  and  opened  it. 
An  organ-grinder  was  turning  the  handle  of  his  instrument 
persistently  ;  but  the  darkness  was  too  great  to  distinguish 
his  face  ;  moreover,  the  courtyard  was  full  of  persons 
coming  and  going,  and  Pichegru  may  have  felt  afraid  of 
exchanging  words  with  the  man.  He  therefore  closed  the 
window  in  spite  of  the  continued  grinding  of  the  musician. 
But  he  turned  to  his  young  secretary. 

"  Charles,"  he  said,  "  go  down  to  that  organ-grinder,  and 
when  you  get  near  him  say,  '  Spartacus  ;  '  if  he  replies, 
*  Kosciusko,'  bring  him  up  to  me.  If  he  does  n't  reply, 
I  'm  mistaken  ;  leave  him  where  he  is." 

Charles,  without  inquiring  further,  ran  off.  The  organ 
continued  to  grind  out  the  Marseillaise,  running  from  one 
strophe  to  another  without  pausing  to  take  breath.  Piche- 
gru listened  attentively.  Hoohe  looked  at  him,  aware  of 
some  mystery  which  would  no  doubt  soon  be  explained. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  bar,  the  organ  stopped. 
Pichegru  smiled  and  nodded  to  Hoche.  An  instant  later 
the  door  opened  and  Charles  appeared,  followed  by  the 
organ-grinder.  Pichegru  looked  at  the  latter  for  a  moment, 
saying  nothing  ;  he  did  not  recognize  him.  The  man  was 
below  middle  height,  and  wore  the  costume  of  an  Alsatian 


200  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

peasant.  His  long  black  hair  fell  over  his  eyes,  which 
were  further  shaded  by  a  broad-brimmed  hat;  he  seemed 
about  forty  to  forty-five  years  of  age. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Pichegru,  addressing  him,  "  I  think 
that  lad  may  have  been  mistaken  ;  it  is  not  you  I  want 
to  see." 

"  General,"  replied  the  organ-grinder,  "  there  can't  be 
any  mistake  about  a  password.  If  you  want  to  see  Stephan 
Moinjski  you  have  found  him.'' 

So  saying,  he  raised  himself  to  his  full  height,  took  off 
his  hat  and  flung  back  his  hair,  and,  save  for  the  color  of 
the  hair  and  beard,  Pichegru  recognized  the  Pole  who 
had  come  to  him  at  Auenheim. 

"Well,  Stephan,"  said  Pichegru. 

"  Well,  general,"  replied  the  spy,  '•  I  have  found  out  all, 
or  nearly  all  you  want  to  know." 

"  Very  good  ;  put  down  your  organ  and  come  here. 
Listen,  Hoche  ;  this  is  information  about  the  enemy.  I 
am  afraid,"  he  added,  turning  to  Stephan,  "  that  you 
haven't  had  time  to  make  it  thorough." 

"Not  about  Wœrth,  because  an  inhabitant  of  that  town 
has  promised  to  give  the  information  when  we  reach 
Frœschwiller  ;  but  about  Frœschwiller  and  Reischoffen  I 
can  tell  you  everything  you  want  to  know." 

"Begin." 

"  The  enemy  has  abandoned  Reischoffen  to  concentrate 
on  Frœschwiller  and  Wœrth  ;  he  knows  about  the  junction 
of  your  two  armies  and  is  concentrating  his  forces  at  those 
points,  which  he  intends  to  defend  to  all  extremes.  Those 
two  points,  strong  by  nature,  have  just  been  fortified  with 
intrenchments,  redoubts,  and  bastions.  The  enemy  at  the 
bridge  of  Reischoffen,  which  he  intends  to  defend,  and  on 
the  heights  of  Frœschwiller  and  Wœrth,  has  22,000  men 
and  about  thirty  cannon,  five  of  which  are  detached  to 
defend  the  bridge.  Kow,"  continued  Stephan,  "  as  I 
thought  it  likely  yoi^  would  begin  by  Frœschwiller,  here 
is  a  plan  of  the  ground  the  enemy  aie  occupying.     Conde's 


A   DRUM-MARRIAGE,  201 

troops  are  holding  the  town  ;  those,  I  have  no  feeling 
against,  they  are  Frenchmen,  As  for  the  rest,  general, 
once  master  of  the  heights  you  command  the  town,  and 
consequently  it  must  be  yours.  As  for  Wœrth,  I  can't  say 
anything  about  that  yet,  —  except  this,  that  I  hope  to  help 
you  take  it  without  a  fight." 

The  two  generals  passed  the  plan  from  one  to  another  ; 
it  was  made  with  the  precision  of  an  excellent  engineer, 

"  Faith,  my  dear  general,"'  said  Hoche,  "  you  are  lucky 
in  having  spies  whom,  at  a  pinch,  you  might  make  officers 
of  engineers." 

"  My  dear  Hoche,"  replied  Pichegru,  ''  the  citizen  is  a 
Pole  ;  he  is  not  a  spy,  —  he  is  simply  avenging  himself." 
Then,  turning  to  Stephan,  he  said,  ''  Thank  you  ;  you  have 
kept  your  word  and  more  than  kept  it  ;  but  your  work  is 
not  done  yet.  Will  you  undertake  to  find  two  guides  who 
know  the  neighborhood  and  will  not  go  astray  on  the 
darkest  night  ?  You  will  march  with  one,  and  break  his 
head  at  the  first  hesitation  on  his  part.  I  '11  march  near 
the  other.  As  you  probably  have  n't  any  pistols,  here  are 
mine," 

And  the  general  gave  Stephan  a  pair,  which  the  latter 
took  with  a  glow  of  pride. 

"  I  can  find  safe  guides,"  said  Stephan  with  his  native 
laconism  ;  "  how  much  time  do  you  give  me  ?  " 

''  Half  an  hour  ;  three  quarters  at  the  most." 

The  pretended  organ-grinder  shouldered  his  instrument 
and  was  going  towards  the  door,  when,  before  he  could 
touch  it,  the  Parisian  Faraud  inserted  his  wriggling  head 
through  the  aperture, 

"  Oh  !  beg  pardon,  general,"  he  said,  "  on  the  honor  of 
a  sergeant,  I  thought  you  were  alone  ;  but  I  can  go  out  if 
you  require  it  and  tap  softly,  —  as  they  did  in  the  old  times 
on  the  doors  of  tyrants." 

"  No,"  replied  Pichegru,  ''  not  necessary  ;  as  you  are 
here,  you  can  stay.  Then  turning  to  Hoche,  "My  dear 
general,"  he  said,  "  this  is  one  of  my  braves  j  he  is  afraid  of 


202  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC.      , 

wolves,  it  is  true,  but  he  is  not  afraid  of  Prussians.  He 
made  two  prisoners  this  morning,  and  in  return  I  made 
him  a  sergeant." 

"  Bless  me  !  "  said  Faraud,  "  more  generals  ?  Then  I 
shall  have  two  for  witnesses  instead  of  one." 

"  I  would  like  you  to  observe,  Faraud,"  said  Pichegru, 
with  that  kindliness  he  showed  to  his  men  when  he  felt 
good-natured,  '•'  that  this  is  the  second  time  to-day  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you." 

"  Yes,  general,"  said  Faraud,  "  there  do  come  lucky  days, 
just  as  there  are  damned  unlucky  ones,  when  you  can't 
see  fire  without  catching  a  ball." 

"  I  presume,"  said  Pichegru,  "  that  you  have  not  come 
here  to  deliver  a  lecture  on  transcendental  philosophy." 

"  General,  I  came  to  ask  you  to  be  my  witness." 

*'  Your  witness  Î  "  exclaimed  Pichegru,  "  are  you  going 
to  fight  a  duel  ?  " 

''  Worse  than  that,  general  ;  I  'm  going  to  be  married." 

"  Good  !  to  whom  ?  " 

"The  Goddess  Reason." 

"  You  have  luck,  you  scamp  !  "  said  Pichegru.  "  She 's 
the  prettiest  and  best  girl  in  the  army.  How  did  you  man- 
age it  ?  Tell  me  the  story." 

"Oh!  it's  very  simple,  general;  I  needn't  say  I'm  a 
Parisian,  need  I  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed." 

"  Well,  the  Goddess  Reason  is  a  Parisian  too  ;  we  come 
from  the  same  neighborhood.  I  loved  her  ;  she  was  not 
unfavorable  ;  when,  just  as  we  were  going  to  settle  it, 
behold,  there  came  along  that  procession  of  '  The  country 
in  danger,'  with  its  black  flags  and  the  roll  of  the  drums, 
and  citizen  Danton  after,  it,  calling  out,  '  To  arms  !  to 
arms  !  the  enemy  is  within  four  days  of  Paris.'  I  was 
a  journeyman  carpenter,  and  somehow  it  put  me  all 
topsy-turvy.  The  enemy  four  days  from  the  capital  !  the 
country  in  danger  !  '  Faraud  !  '  I  said,  '  you  must  save  the 
country  ;  you  must  repulse  the  enemy  !  '     I  flung  the  plane 


A   DRUM-MARRIAGE.  203 

to  all  the  devils.  I  grabbed  a  gun,  and  I  went  and  enlisted 
under  the  banner  of  the  municipality.  Then  I  told  the 
Goddess  Reason  that  her  sweet  eyes  had  driven  me  to 
despair,  and  I  was  going  to  the  wars  so  as  to  die  the 
quicker.  Then  Rose  said  —  her  name 's  Rose,  Rose  Char- 
leroi,  who  gets  up  fine  linen  —  she  said  :  '  As  true  as 
there's  a  God  they  are  going  to  dethrone,  it'  my  poor 
mother  was  n't  ill,  I  'd  go  too  !  '  '  Ah  !  '  said  1,  '  Rose, 
women  can't  fight.'  'But  they  can  be  sutlers,'  says  she. 
'  Rose,'  I  cried,  '  I  '11  write  you  every  fifteen  days  to  let 
you  know  where  I  am  ;  and  if  you  can  get  away,  will  you 
join  my  regiment  ?  '  '  Promised,'  she  says.  So  we  shook 
hands  and  kissed  each  other,  and  forward,  march  !  After 
Jemmapes,  where  my  regiment  was  cut  to  ribbons,  we 
were  drafted  into  the  volunteers  of  the  Indre  and  sent  to 
the  Rhine.  Who  should  I  see  arrive,  about  six  weeks  or 
two  months  ago,  but  Rose  Charleroi  !  Her  poor  mother 
was  dead,  and  she  had  been  chosen  as  the  handsomest  and 
best  girl  of  the  quarter  for  the  Goddess  Reason  in  some 
procession,  I  forget  what  ;  after  which,  faith  !  she  kept  her 
word  to  me  and  went  and  enlisted.  When  I  heard  of  her 
arrival  I  rushed  to  see  her  and  wanted  to  kiss  her. 
'  Sluggard  !  '  says  she,  '  not  even  a  corporal  !  '  '  How  can 
I  help  that.  Goddess  ?  '  said  I,  '  I  'm  not  ambitious.' 
'  Well,  I  am  ambitious,'  she  says  ;  '  so  don't  come  and  see 
me  again  till  you  're  a  sergeant  —  unless  it  is  to  drink  a 
drop.'  *  But,'  I  said  to  her,  '  will  you  marry  me  the 
day  I  am  a  sergeant  ?  '  'On  the  flag  of  the  regiment,  T 
swear  it  !  '  she  says.  And  she  has  kept  her  word,  general  ; 
in  ten  minutes  we  shall  be  man  and  wife." 

«  Where  ?  " 

"  Here,  in  the  courtyard,  under  your  windows,  general." 

"  What  priest  is  there  to  marry  you  ?  " 

"The  drummer." 

"  Ha,  ha,  so  it  is  a  drum-niarriage,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  general,  Rose  wants  things  done  regular." 

"  Very  right,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing  ;  "  I  recognize  the 


204  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Goddess  Eeason  in  that.     Tell  her  that  as  she  has  chosen 
me  for  her  witness  I  '11  dower  her." 

"  Dower  her,  general  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  a  donkey  and  two  barrels  of  brandy." 

"  Oh,  my  general  !  you  prevent  me  from  asking  you  for 
something  else." 

"  What  is  it  ?  say  on." 

"  Well,  I  was  to  ask,  —  this  is  not  in  my  name,  but  m 
the  name  of  my  comrades,  —  well,  general,  it  is,  hoping 
for  your  permission,  that  the  day  may  end  as  it  began, 
by  a  ball." 

"  Then,"  said  Hoche,  "  as  second  witness,  I  shall  pay  for 
the  ball." 

*'  And  the  town-hall  shall  furnish  the  ball-room,"  added 
Pichegru.  *'But  remember,  and  let  everybody  know  it,  that 
the  ball  is  to  end  at  two  o'clock,  and  at  half-past  two  the 
army  will  march,  —  we  have  twelve  miles  to  do  before  day- 
light. So  every  one  is  warned;  those  who  want  to  sleep 
may  sleep,  those  who  want  to  dance  may  dance.  We  will 
witness  the  marriage  from  the  balcony.  When  all  is  ready 
a  roll  of  the  drum  will  give  us  notice." 

Rich  with  all  these  promises,  Faraud  precipitated  himself 
down  the  staircase,  and  there  was  present!}'  heard  in  the 
courtyard  the  uproar  consequent  on  his  apparition. 

The  two  generals  left  alone  made  their  last  decisions  for 
the  battle  of  the  morrow.  One  column,  which  was  to 
start  first  under  the  orders  of  Colonel  René  Savary,  was 
to  make  a  forced  march,  so  as  to  reach  the  village  of 
Neuwiller  by  mid-day.  At  the  sound  of  the  first  cannon  it 
was  to  advance  on  Froeschwiller  and  attack  the  Prussians  in 
flank.  A  second  column,  under  Macdonald,  was  to  go  by  the 
Zeuzel  to  Niederbronn.  The  two  generals  would  themselves 
march  with  this  column.  The  third  was  to  make  a  demon- 
stration at  the  bridge  of  Reischoffen,  and  try  to  carry  it  ;  if 
prevented,  it  was  merely  to  occupy  the  enemy  while  the  two 
other  columns  turned  the  position.  This  third  column  was 
to  be  commanded  by  Abattucci. 


A   DRUM-MARKIAGE.  205 

These  arrangements  were  hardly  settled  before  the  roll 
of  a  drum  announced  to  the  two  generals  that  their 
presence  was  awaited  for  the  nuptial  ceremony.  They  did 
not  keep  it  waiting,  but  appeared  at  once  on  the  balcony. 

Mighty  cheers  resounded  as  soon  as  they  appeared; 
Faraud  saluted  after  his  fashion,  and  the  Goddess  Reason 
grew  as  red  as  a  cherry.  The  whole  staff  surrounded  the 
bridal  pair.  It  was  the  first  time  that  this  novel  ceremony, 
often  repeated  afterward  in  the  three  great  armies  of  the 
Eepublic,  had  taken  place  in  the  army  of  the  Rhine. 

"  Come,"  said  Faraud,  *'  to  your  post,  Spartacus  !  " 

The  drum-major  thus  apostrophized  mounted  a  table, 
before  which  Faraud  and  his  bride  placed  themselves. 
Spartacus  gave  a  roll  to  his  drum,  and  then  in  a  loud  and 
vigorous  voice,  so  that  no  person  present  should  lose  a 
syllable  of  what  he  said,  he  thus  proclaimed  :  — 

"  Listen  to  the  law  !  Inasmuch  as  in  camp  there  cannot 
always  be  a  municipal  officer  with  stamped  paper  and  a 
scarf  to  open  the  gates  of  Hymen,  I,  Pierre-Antoine 
Bichonneau,  otherwise  called  Spartacus,  drum-major  of  the 
battalion  of  the  Indre,  do  now  proceed  to  the  legitimate 
union  of  Pierre-Claude  Faraud  and  Rose  Charleroi,  vivan- 
dière of  the  24th  regiment." 

Here  Spartacus  interrupted  himself  and  gave  a  roll  to 
his  drum,  which  was  taken  up  by  all  the  other  drums  of  the 
battalion  of  the  Indre  and  those  of  the  24th  regiment. 
Then,  the  roll  being  concluded,  — 

"Approach,  bride  and  bridegroom  !  "  said  Spartacus. 

The  bridal  pair  made  one  step  forward  to  the  table. 

"In  presence  of  the  citizen-generals  Lazare  Hoche  and 
Charles  Pichegru,  assisted  by  the  battalion  of  the  Indre,  the 
24th  regiment,  and  all  those  who  have  been  able  to  get  into 
this  courtyard,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Republic,  one  and 
indivisible,  I  unite  you,  and  I  bless  you  !  " 

Spartacus  executed  another  roll,  during  the  performance 
of  which  two  sergeants  of  the  battalion  of  the  Indre  ex- 
tended a  sapper's-apron  (to  do  duty  for  the  dais)  over  the 


206  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

heads  of  the  bride  and  bridegroom  ;  that  done,  Spartacus 
resumed  :  — 

"Citizen  Pierre-Claude  Faraud,  you  promise  your  wife 
protection  and  love,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Parbleu  !  "  replied  Faraud. 

"  Citoyenne  Rose  Charleroi,  do  you  promise  your  husband 
constancy,  fidelity,  and  little  tipples  at  discretion  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Rose  Charleroi. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law  I  pronounce  you  married. 
The  regiment  will  adopt  your  numerous  children  —  Stop, 
stop,  don't  go  away  !     Another  roll  !  " 

A  roll  of  twenty-five  drums  was  heard,  until  at  a  sign 
from  Spartacus  it  stopped  suddenly. 

"Without  that  you  wouldn't  live  happy,"  he  said. 

The  two  generals  applauded,  laughing.  Nothing  was 
now  heard  but  vivas  and  hurrahs,  followed  in  a  few 
moments  by  the  rattle  of  glasses. 


SIX   HUNDKED   FRANCS   FOR   PRUSSIAN   CANNON  1      207 


XXIX. 

SIX    HUNDRED    FRANCS    FOR    THOSE    PRUSSIAN    CANNON  ! 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  that  is,  at  the  moment 
when  the  sun  was  disputing  with  a  heavy  fog  for  its  right 
to  illumine  the  world,  the  moment  too  when  the  first 
column  under  Savary  was  approaching  Jagerthal,  and  the 
cannon  was  beginning  to  growl  in  the  direction  of  the  bridge 
of  Reischoffen  attacked  by  the  third  column  under  command 
of  Abattueci,  the  second  column,  the  strongest  of  the  three, 
with  Hoche  and  Pichegru  at  its  head,  crossed  the  torrent 
which  passes  Niederbronn  and  took  that  village  without 
striking  a  blow. 

At  this  first  stage,  twelve  miles  having  been  done,  a  slight 
rest  was  given  to  the  soldiers  ;  they  breakfasted,  and  the 
Goddess  Eeason  made  her  rounds  with  her  donkey  and  the 
two  barrels  of  brandy.  One  barrel  was  used  up,  to  the  cry 
of  "  Vive  la  République."  Then  the  column  started  again, 
about  eight  o'clock,  for  Frœsehwillcr,  hardly  two  miles 
distant.  The  cannon  at  the  bridge  of  Eeischoffen  was  still 
heard. 

But  suddenly  the  sound  ceased.  Was  the  bridge  taken, 
or  had  Abattucci  been  forced  to  fall  back  ?  The  general 
called  Doumerc. 

"  Have  you  a  good  horse,  captain  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Excellent." 

"  Able  to  leap  hedges  and  ditches  ?  " 

"  Everything." 

"Put  him  to  a  gallop  in  a  bee-line  for  the  bridge  of 
Eeischoffen  ;  bring  me  news,  or  get  yourself  killed." 

Doumerc  started  ;  ten  minutes  later  two  horsemen  were 
seen   returning  along  the  way  he  had  taken.     They  were 


208  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Doumero  and  Falou.  A  third  of  the  way  the  captain  had 
met  the  worthy  chasseur,  who  was  sent  b}^  Abattucci  to 
announce  that  the  bridge  was  carried  and  he  himself  march- 
ing on  Frœschwiller.  Falou  had  taken  prisoner  a  Prussian 
officer,  and  Abattucri  had  made  him  a  corporal.  Abattucci 
requested  the  general  to  confirm  the  appointment.  Falou 
was  sent  back,  duly  a  corporal,  with  a  verbal  message  to 
Abattucci  to  continue  his  march  on  Frœschwiller  and 
threaten  the  place,  and  to  hold  liimself  ready,  while  the 
second  coliamn  carried  the  heights,  to  send  to  its  assistance 
if  necessary.  All  this  was  arranged  without  stopping  the 
march  of  the  column,  which  was  now  within  sight  of  the 
heights  of  Frœschwiller. 

A  small  wood  lay  between  Niederbronn  and  Frœschwiller, 
and  as  the  march  was  made  across  the  plain  and  not  along  a 
regular  road,  Pichegru,  fearing  that  the  little  wood  might 
mask  an  ambuscade,  ordered  twenty  men  and  a  sergeant  to 
beat  it. 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Doumerc,  "  it  is  n't  worth  while,  general, 
to  detach  a  squad  for  that." 

And  putting  his  horse  at  a  gallop  he  rode  through  the 
•wood  from  end  to  end  and  then  recrossed  it,  coming  out 
three  hundred  feet  from  where  he  went  in. 

"  No,  general,"  he  cried,  "there  is  no  one  there." 

The  wood  was  passed  ;  but  suddenly,  when  they  reached 
the  edge  of  a  ravine,  the  advanced  guard  was  saluted  by  a 
volley  of  musketry.  Three  or  four  hundred  sharpshooters 
were  scattered  along  the  windings  of  the  gorge  and  among 
the  clumps  of  trees  that  covered  it.  The  two  generals 
formed  their  men  into  an  attacking  column.  The  general 
ordered  Charles  to  stay  with  the  rear-guard,  but  the  boy 
entreated  so  earnestly  to  be  allowed  to  go  with  the  staff  that 
Pichegru  consented. 

Frœschwiller  stood  at  the  base  of  a  hill  that  bristled  with 
redoubts  and  cannon.  On  the  right,  not  three  miles  distant, 
Abattucci's  column  was  seen  advancing,  driving  before  it 
the  troops  that  had  vainly  endeavored  to  hold  the  bridge. 


SIX  HUNDRED   FRANCS   FOR   PRUSSIAN   CANNON  !      209 

"  Comrades,"  said  Pichegru,  "  shall  we  await  our  com 
panions,  who  have  already  had  their  glory  at  the  bridge, 
before  attacking  those  redoubts  ?  or  shall  we  win  for  our- 
selves alone  the  glory  of  carrying  them  before  the  others 
come  up  ?     It  will  be  hard  work,  I  warn  you." 

"  Forward  !  forward  !  "  cried  the  battalion  of  the  Indre 
(which  formed  the  head  of  the  column)  with  one  voice. 

"  Forward  !  "  cried  Hoche's  men,  who,  the  night  before, 
had  threatened  to  mutiny,  and  who,  after  submitting,  had 
obtained  the  honor  of  the  second  place. 

*'  Forward  !  "  cried  General  Dubois,  who  belonged  to  the 
Army  of  the  Moselle  and  commanded  the  rear-guard,  which 
now,  by  the  wheeling  of  the  column,  was  brought  to  the 
front. 

Instantly  the  drums  beat  and  the  bugles  sounded  the 
charge  ;  the  first  ranks  broke  into  the  Marseillaise  ;  the 
ground  shook  with  the  onset  of  these  three  or  four  thousand 
men  as  the  human  whirlwind  took  its  course,  heads  down 
and  bayonets  forward.  Hardly  had  it  gone  a  hundred  steps 
before  the  hill  belched  forth  its  flames  like  a  volcano  ;  and 
then  the  solid  ranks  were  seen  to  open  in  bloody  furrows  as 
though  an  invisible  plough  had  been  driven  through  them  ; 
but  no  sooner  were  they  opened  than  they  closed.  The 
Marseillaise  and  the  cries  of  *'  Forward  !  "  continued,  and 
the  distance  which  separated  the  first  French  lines  from  the 
intrenchments  was  beginning  to  disappear,  when  a  second 
thunder  of  artillery  burst  forth  and  the  cannon-balls  again 
tore  their  way  through  the  ranks.  Again  the  ranks  closed 
up  ;  but  this  time  darkling  anger  succeeded  to  enthusiasm  ; 
the  song  died  out,  a  few  voices  only  accompanied  the  music, 
the  quick-step  charge  became  a  run. 

At  the  instant  when  the  first  ranks  reached  the  intrench- 
ment  a  third  volley  was  fired.  This  time  the  artillery, 
using  grape-shot,  poured  an  actual  hurricane  of  fire  into  the 
attacking  column.  The  whole  assaulting  force  recoiled 
before  that  deadly  torrent.  This  time,  death  no  longer 
mowed  in  lines,  it  fell  like  hail  upon  a  wheatfield  ;  the  songs 

VOL.  I. — 14 


210  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

were  silenced,  the  music  ceased,  the  tidal  wave  of  human 
beings  not  only  stopped,  but  it  made  a  motion  backward. 

Again  the  victorious  hymn  resounded.  General  Dubois, 
who,  as  we  said,  was  now  in  the  advance  and  commanded 
the  attack,  had  his  horse  killed  under  him  and  they  thought 
him  dead.  But,  in  a  moment,  he  freed  himself  from  the 
body  of  the  animal,  rose,  put  his  hat  on  the  point  of  his 
sabre,  and  waved  it  high,  crying  out  "  Vive  la  République  !  " 
That  cry,  "  Vive  la  République  !  "  was  taken  up  by  all  the 
survivors  and  all  the  wounded  who  still  had  strength  to 
utter  it.  The  moment  of  hesitation  was  over  ;  again  the 
charge  was  sounded,  the  bayonets  were  lowered  and  the  roar 
of  lions  succeeded  to  the  songs  and  cries. 

The  first  ranks  were  already  surrounding  the  redoubt  ; 
the  grenadiers  were  clinging  to  the  walls  to  scale  them 
when  thirty  cannon  thundered  in  one  discharge  with  a  noise 
as  though  a  powder  magazine  had  exploded.  This  time 
General  Dubois  fell,  never  to  rise  again,  cut  in  two  by  a 
ball.  The  first  ranks  disappeared  in  a  tempest  of  fire, 
swallowed  up  as  it  were  in  a  gulf.  The  column  not  only 
recoiled,  but  it  fell  back,  and  in  a  moment,  without  any  one 
knowing  how  it  happened,  forty  paces  lay  between  the 
column  and  the  redoubt,  covered  with  dead  and  dying. 

Then  a  gallant  deed  was  done.  Before  Pichegru,  who 
had  sent  two  of  his  aids  to  hasten  Abattucci,  could  see  his 
object,  Hoche,  flinging  his  hat  away  that  all  might  recognize 
him,  sprang  forward  with  his  hair  waving,  sabre  in  hand, 
leaping  his  horse  over  the  bodies  and  standing  high  in  his 
stirrups,  — 

"  Soldiers  !  "  he  cried,  "  six  hundred  francs  apiece  for 
those  Prussian  cannon  !     Going  —  going  —  " 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  the  men  with  a  single  voice. 

Again  the  bands,  twice  silenced,  took  up  the  hymn,  and 
amid  the  belching  of  grape-shot  and  balls,  and  a  hail  of 
bullets,  all  of  which  made  their  mark,  Hoche  was  seen, 
followed  by  a  crowd  maddened  with  hatred  and  vengeance 
and   no    longer  keeping  ranks,    close   to   the    wall  of  the 


SIX   HUNDRED   FRANCS   FOR   PRUSSIAN   CANNON  !      211 

redoubt,  where,  using  his  horse  as  a  springboard,  he  attained 
the  top  and  plunged,  hand  to  hand,  upon  the  enemy. 

Pichegru  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  boy 
Charles,  who  was  gazing  at  this  terrible  sight  with  fixed 
eyes  and  quivering  mouth. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  demigod,  my  lad  ?  "  he  said  to  him. 

"  No,  no,  general." 

"  Then,"  said  Pichegru,  "  look  at  Hoche.  Was  ever 
Achilles,  son  of  Thetis,  grander  or  handsomer  than  he  ?  " 

And  in  truth,  surrounded  by  enemies,  his  long  hair  float- 
ing in  the  wind,  his  forehead  pale,  his  lips  disdainful, 
Hoche,  with  his  beautiful  face  and  tall  form,  was  the  perfect 
image  of  a  hero,  dealing  death  and  despising  it. 

How  did  the  soldiers  mount  behind  him  ?  How  could 
they  have  climbed  that  parapet  that  was  eight  to  ten  feet 
high  ?  That  is  a  thing  impossible  to  tell  or  to  describe. 
But  what  did  happen  was  that  scarcely  five  minutes  after 
Hoche  had  made  his  spring  the  redoubt  was  full  of  Repub- 
lican soldiers  trampling  under  foot  the  bodies  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  Prussians. 

Again  Hoche  bounded  on  the  parapet,  and  counting  the 
cannon  of  the  redoubt,  he  cried  out  :  — 

"  Four  cannon  knocked  down,  at  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred francs,  to  the  first  ranks  of  the  attacking  column  !  " 

He  stood  a  moment  in  view  of  the  whole  army,  like  a 
living  flag  of  the  Revolution,  exposed  as  a  target  to  the 
enemy's  balls,  none  of  which  touched  him.  Then,  in  a 
formidable  voice,  he  cried  out  :  — 

"  Now  for  the  rest  !     Vive  la  République  !  " 

And  then,  amid  the  shouts  and  songs  of  war,  the  blaring 
of  the  brass  instruments,  the  roll  of  drums,  general,  officers, 
and  men  flung  themselves  pell-mell  into  the  intrenchments. 

At  the  first  discharge  of  cannon,  the  émigrés,  who  were 
holding  themselves  ready,  made  a  sortie  from  the  town  ; 
but  they  were  met  by  the  advanced  guard  of  Abattucci's 
column,  which,  coming  up  at  a  run,  effectually  prevented 
them  from  assisting  the  Prussians,  having  enough  to  do  to 


212  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

defend  themselves.  Abattucci  had  also  detached  fifteen 
hundred  cavalry,  whom  Pichegru  now  saw  coming  up  at  full 
speed,  led  by  his  two  aides-de-camp.  He  put  himself  at 
their  head,  and  seeing  that  Abattucci  could  well  defend 
himself  with  the  force  that  remained  to  him,  Pichegru 
advanced  in  all  haste  to  the  support  of  those  who  had  borne 
the  brunt  of  the  attack.  These  fifteen  hundred  fresh  men, 
animated  by  their  morning  victory,  sprang  at  their  first 
onset  beyond  the  second  line  of  works.  The  cannoneers 
were  killed  at  their  pieces,  and  the  guns,  which  it  w^as 
impossible  to  turn  against  the  Prussians,  were  spiked. 

In  the  midst  of  the  fire  the  two  generals  met,  and  both 
together,  on  reaching  the  top  of  a  hill  from  which  the  whole 
plain  of  Neschwiller  could  be  seen,  gave  a  cry  of  triumph; 
for  a  black  soUd  mass,  with  shining  bayonets  and  tricolor 
plumes  and  flags  bending  like  masts  in  a  gale  were  seen 
coming  up  at  a  quick  stop.  It  was  Macdonald  and  the  first 
column,  faithful  to  the  rendezvous,  who  were  now  in  time, 
not  to  decide  the  victory,  for  that  was  already  decided,  but 
to  share  it. 

At  this  sight,  the  Prussians  were  routed  and  thought 
only  of  escape.  They  sprang  to  the  parapets  of  the 
redoubts,  jumped  into  the  intrenchments,  and  rolled  down, 
rather  than  descended,  a  slope  of  the  hill  which  was  so 
steep  it  had  not  been  fortified.  But  Macdonald,  by  a  rapid 
movement,  had  surrounded  the  base  of  the  hill,  and  received 
the  fugitives  on  the  point  of  his  bayonets. 

The  émigrés,  who  stood  their  ground  with  the  bitterness 
of  Frenchmen  fighting  against  Frenchmen,  understood,  when 
they  saw  this  flight,  that  the  day  was  lost.  The  infantry 
began  to  retreat  step  by  step,  protected  by  the  cavalry, 
whose  frequent  and  daring  charges  were  the  admiration  of 
those  who  fought  them.  Pichegru,  under  pretence  that  the 
men  were  tired,  sent  orders  to  the  victors  to  let  the  émigrés 
retire,  though  at  the  same  time  he  pursued  the  Prussians 
with  all  the  cavalry  he  could  muster,  and  allowed  them  no 
chance  to  rally  short  of  Wcerth. 


SIX   HUNDRED   FKANCS   FOR   PRUSSIAN   CANNON  !      213 

Then,  being  in  haste  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  hill 
whence  they  could  see  the  whole  battlefield,  the  two 
generals  started  for  it,  taking  the  slope  along  which  each 
had  fought.  Once  there  they  flung  themselves  into  each 
other's  arms,  one  with  his  bloody  sabre  held  high,  the  other 
with  two  shots  through  his  hat.  Thus  seen  in  the  midst  of 
the  smoke  which  rose  to  heaven  like  that  of  a  cooling 
volcano,  they  appeared  to  the  eyes  of  the  army,  those  two 
victors,  magnified  by  the  atmosphere  about  them  to  the 
stature  of  giants. 

At  that  sight  a  vast  cry  of  "  Vive  la  République  !  " 
resounded  on  all  sides  of  the  mountain  and  rolled  down 
until  it  was  lost  upon  the  plain,  —  mingling  with  the  dolo- 
rous moans  of  the  wounded  and  the  last  sighing  breaths  of 
the  dead. 


214  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 


XXX. 

THE    ORGAN. 

It  was  mid-day,  and  the  victory  was  wholly  ours.  The 
Prussians,  beaten,  abandoned  a  field  of  battle  covered  with 
their  dead  and  wounded,  twenty-four  caissons  and  eighteen 
cannon.  The  cannon  were  dragged  before  the  generals, 
who  paid  those  who  had  taken  them  the  price  at  which 
they  had  been  put  up  before  the  action,  —  namely,  six 
hundred  francs  apiece.  The  battalion  of  the  Indre  had 
taken  two. 

The  soldiers  were  dreadfully  weary,  —  first  with  their 
night  march,  and  then  with  those  three  hours  of  terrific 
fighting.  The  generals,  while  sending  one  battalion  for- 
ward to  take  possession  of  Frœschwiller,  ordered  that  the 
rest  of  the  army  should  halt  where  it  was  and  breakfast. 
The  bugles  sounded,  the  drums  beat  to  halt,  the  muskets 
were  stacked.  In  a  moment  Frenchmen  had  relighted  the 
Prussian  fires  which  were  not  quite  out.  On  leaving  Dawen- 
dorf  three  days'  rations  had  been  issued,  and  as  the  men 
had  received  their  back  pay  the  night  before,  each  had 
added  something  to  the  government  diet-list,  —  either  a 
sausage  or  a  smoked  tongue,  a  roast  fowl  or  a  section  of 
ham.  They  all  had  their  mess-tins  full.  If  by  chance 
any  were  not  well  provisioned  and  had  only  their  dry  bread, 
they  opened  the  canteens  of  their  dead  comrades  and  took 
what  they  wanted. 

During  this  time  the  surgeons  and  their  aids  were 
employed  in  sending  to  Frœschwiller  such  of  the  wounded 
as  could  be  moved,  and  could  await  the  dressing  of  their 
wounds,  while  they  attended  to  the  others  on  the  field  of 
battle.  The  two  generals  had  settled  themselves  in  a 
redoubt  half  way  up  the  slope,  occupied,  an  hour  earlier,  by 


THE   ORGAN.  215 

General  Hodge.  The  Goddess  Reason,  now  Citoyenne 
Faraud,  had  announced  that  in  her  capacity  as  chief 
vivandière  to  the  Army  of  the  Rhine  she  should  take 
charge  of  the  meals  of  the  two  generals.  In  a  species  of 
casemate  they  found  a  table,  chairs,  and  knives  and  forks, 
all  in  good  condition  for  use  ;  on  a  shelf  were  glasses  and 
napkins.  The  provisions  themselves  were  in  the  general's 
waggon,  under  care  of  Leblanc.  But  alas  !  it  now  appeared 
that  a  stray  cannon-ball  had  demolished  the  waggon  and 
all  it  contained.  Sad  news,  which  Leblanc,  who  was  not 
in  the  habit  of  uselessly  exposing  his  life,  came  to  tell  the 
general  just  as  the  Goddess  Reason  was  la^'ing  the  table 
with  twelve  plates,  twelve  glasses,  twelve  knives  and  forks, 
and  twelve  napkins,  and  had  placed  twelve  chairs  around  it. 
Alas  !  all  species  of  food  and  drink  were  conspicuous  by 
their  absence. 

Pichegru  was  about  to  ask  his  men  to  make  him  a 
voluntary  contribution  of  provender,  when  a  voice  which 
seemed  to  issue,  like  that  of  Hamlet's  father,  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  cried  out  :  — 

"  Victory  !  victory  !  " 

It  was  the  voice  of  Faraud,  who  had  discovered  a  trap- 
door, and  descending  through  it  had  come  upon  a  cellar  with 
a  well-filled  larder.  Ten  minutes  later  the  generals  were 
served,  and  the  principal  officers  of  their  respective  staffs 
were  seated  round  the  board. 

Xothing  can  give  an  idea  of  these  fraternal  symposia, 
where  soldiers,  officers,  and  generals  broke  the  bread  of  the 
bivouac  together,  —  the  true  bread  of  equality  and  fra- 
ternity. All  these  men,  who  were  destined  to  traverse 
Europe  from  end  to  end,  who  had  started  from  the  Bastille 
like  Caesar's  soldiers  from  the  Mille  d'Or,  began  to  feel  in 
each  other  that  supreme  confidence  which  results  in  moral 
superiority  and  gives  victory.  They  did  not  know  where 
they  were  going,  but  they  were  ready  to  go  anywhere  ! 
The  world  was  before  them,  France  behind  them,  —  France, 
that  land  maternal  above  all  others,  the  only  mother-lanti 


216  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

which  palpitates  with  life  and  loves  her  children,  which 
has  a  heart,  and  trembles  with  pleasure  beneath  their  feet 
when  they  are  triumphant,  with  grief  when  they  are  van- 
quished, with  gratitude  when  they  die  for  her. 

Ah  !  he  who  knows  how  to  take  thee,  Cornelia  of  the 
nations,  he  who  can  gratify  thy  pride,  who  can  place  upon 
thy  head  the  laurel  crown,  and  in  thy  hand  the  sword  of 
Charlemagne,  of  Philip  Augustus,  of  Fraucis  the  First,  or 
of  Napoleon,  he  alone  knows  all  that  can  be  drawn  of  milk 
from  thy  breast,  of  tears  from  thine  eyes,  of  blood  from 
thy  heart  ! 

There  was,  in  this  genesis  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
with  its  feet  still  buried  in  the  mud  of  the  eighteenth 
while  it  lifted  its  head  into  the  clouds,  there  was  in  these 
first  battles  where  a  single  people,  in  the  name  of  the 
liberty  and  happiness  of  all  peoples,  flung  their  glove  in  the 
face  of  all  the  world,  —  there  was,  I  say,  something  grand, 
Homeric,  sublime,  which  I  feel  myself  powerless  to 
describe  ;  and  yet  it  was  to  describe  it  that  I  undertook 
this  book.  It  is  not  the  least  of  a  poet's  griefs  to  feel  the 
GRAND  and  yet,  breathless,  panting,  dissatisfied  with  him- 
self, to  fall  below  that  which  he  feels. 

Apart  from  the  five  hundred  men  sent  forward  to  occupy 
Frœschwiller,  the  army,  as  we  have  said,  remained  to 
bivouac  upon  the  battlefield,  rejoicing  in  its  victory  and 
forgetting  already  the  price  it  cost.  The  cavalry  sent  in 
pursuit  of  the  Prussians  had  returned  with  twelve  hundred 
prisoners  and  six  pieces  of  artillery  ;  the  following  is  the 
report  it  brought  :  — 

A  short  distance  from  Woerth  the  2d  regiment  of 
Carbineers,  the  3d  Huzzars,  and  30th  Chasseurs  had 
come  up  with  a  body  of  Prussians  surrounding  a  French 
regiment  belonging  to  Abattucci's  command  which  had 
missed  its  way  and  marched  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy. 
Attacked  on  all  sides,  the  regiment  had  formed  in  square 
and  thence  from  its  four  fronts  came  the  fire  of  musketry 
which  attracted  the  notice  of  their  comrades. 


THE   ORGAN.  217 

The  three  regiments  did  not  hesitate.  With  a  solid 
charge  they  broke  the  terrible  iron  circle  that  surrounded 
their  comrades.  The  latter,  feeling  themselves  supported, 
formed  in  column  and  rushed,  with  heads  and  bayonets 
lowered,  on  the  enemy.  Cavalry  and  infantry  then  began 
their  retreat  toward  the  French  army  ;  but  a  considerable 
body  of  the  enemy  made  a  sortie  from  Woerth,  and  closed 
the  way  ;  again  the  fight  began,  with  greater  fury  than  ever. 
The  French  fought  one  to  four,  and  they  might  perhaps 
have  succumbed  if  a  regiment  of  dragoons  had  not  at  the 
right  moment  charged  into  the  mêlée  with  sabres  up  and 
forced  a  path  to  the  infantry,  which  it  disengaged  ;  the 
infantry  in  turn  again  poured  in  its  regular  tire  and 
soon  cleared  a  space  about  it.  Into  this  space  the  cavalry 
charged  and  made  it  wider.  And  then,  all  together,  cavalry 
and  infantry,  rushed  forward  singing  the  Marseillaise, 
sabring,  bayoneting,  gaining  ground,  and  drawing  closer 
around  the  cannon,  which  they  finally  brought  back  into 
camp  amid  shouts  and  cries  of  "  Vive  la  République  !  " 

The  two  generals  mounted  their  horses  and  rode  into 
Frceschwiller  to  arrange  a  defence  in  case  the  Prussians 
should  resume  the  offensive  and  attempt  to  retake  the 
place.  They  also  desired  to  visit  the  hospitals.  All  the 
peasants  of  the  neighborhood  and  a  hundred  or  more 
workmen  in  the  town  had  been  pressed  into  service  to 
bury  the  dead.  Seven  or  eight  hundred  men  began  to 
dig  long  trenches  seven  feet  wide,  thirty  yards  long,  and 
seven  feet  deep,  and  in  them  were  laid,  side  by  side, 
Prussians  and  French,  all  living  men  and  enemies  that 
morning,  now  reconciled  by  death  and  lying  together  in 
one  grave.  When  the  two  generals  returned  from  their 
visit  to  the  town  the  victims  of  this  victorious  day  were 
sleeping,  not  on,  but  beneath  the  battle-field,  without  leaving 
other  trace  behind  them  than  eight  or  ten  ridges  in  the 
ground  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

The  town  was  too  small  to  lodge  the  whole  army,  but 
with  the   quick-wittedness   and   rapidity   of  execution  of 


218  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

French  soldiers,  a  straw  village  rose  as  if  by  enchantment 
upon  the  plain  where  a  few  hours  earlier  cannon-balls  and 
grapeshot  had  ploughed  the  earth  ;  the  rest  of  the  army 
lay  in  the  intrenchments  abandoned  by  the  Prussians. 
The  two  generals  established  themselves  in  the  redoubt, 
where  one  tent  sheltered  both. 

Toward  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  darkness  was 
coming  on  and  the  generals  had  just  finished  dinner,  Piche- 
gru,  sitting  between  Charles,  whom  the  sights  of  this 
terrible  day,  on  which  he  had  seen  war  at  close  quarters 
for  the  first  time,  had  rendered  thoughtful,  and  Doumerc, 
whom  the  same  events  had  on  the  contrary  rendered  more 
loquacious  than  usual,  —  Pichegru,  fancying  no  doubt  that 
he  heard  some  distant  sound  which  might  be  a  signal, 
hastily  laid  a  hand  on  Doumerc's  arm  to  silence  him,  and 
putting  a  finger  on  his  lips  began  to  listen. 

Silence  reigned.  Then,  in  the  far  distance,  was  heard 
the  sound  of  an  organ  playing  the  Marseillaise. 

Pichegru  smiled  and  looked  at  Hoche. 

"  That 's  sufficient,  gentlemen  ;  Doumerc,  I  release  your 
tongue." 

Doumerc  instantly  resumed  his  talk. 

Two  persons  alone  understood  the  interruption  or  noticed 
the  organ  ;  they  were  Charles  and  Hoche.  Five  minutes 
later,  as  the  sound  drew  nearer,  Pichegru  rose,  walked  in  a 
careless  manner  through  the  door,  and  stopped  on  a  plat- 
form near  a  covered  stairway  which  gave  access  to  it. 
The  souiids  of  the  instrument  came  nearer  ;  it  was  evident 
that  the  organ-grinder  was  climbing  the  hill.  The  general 
himself  presently  saw  him  making  straight  for  the  redoubt  ; 
but  when  he  was  twenty  yards  away  from  it  the  sentry 
challenged  him.  Unable  to  give  the  countersign,  the  man 
stopped  short  and  again  began  the  Marseillaise  ;  as  he  did 
so,  the  general  leaned  forward  over  the  breastwork  and 
said  to  the  sentry  :  — 

''Let  him  pass." 

The  sentry  recognized  the  general,  and  made  way  at  OûCe 


THE    ORGAN.  219 

for  the  organ-grinder.  Five  minutes  more,  and  Pichegru 
and  the  spy  were  face  to  face.  Pichegru  made  a  sign  to 
the  man  to  follow  him,  and  took  him  down  into  the  cellar 
where  the  provisions  of  General  Hodge  had  been  discovered. 
By  Pichegru's  order  Leblanc  had  put  a  table  and  two 
chairs  in  the  place,  together  with  a  lighted  lamp,  and  pens, 
ink,  and  paper.  The  valet  was  now  stationed  at  the  door 
with  strict  orders  to  let  no  one  pass  unless  it  were  General 
Hoche  or  citizen  Charles. 

Six  o'clock  was  striking  in  succession  from  the  steeples 
of  the  neighboring  villages  ;  sometimes  two  struck  together, 
but  that  was  rare.  Stephan  listened  to  the  chiming  and 
counted  the  strokes. 

"■  Good,"  he  said,  '■  we  have  twelve  clear  hours  of  night 
before  us." 

"  Are  we  to  do  any  thing  to-night  ?  "  asked  Pichegru, 
eagerly. 

"Yes,"  replied  Stephan,  "we  shall  take  Wœrth,  please 
God." 

"Stephan!"  cried  Pichegru,  ''if  you  have  kept  your 
word  to  me,  what  shall  I  give  you  ?  " 

"Your  hand,"  replied  Stephan. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  Pichegru,  seizing  that  of  the  Pole 
and  shaking  it  vehemently. 

Then  sitting  down  he  signed  to  the  other  to  be  seated. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  what  is  tn  be  done  ?  " 

Stephan  placed  his  orgai!  in  a  corner,  but  did  not  sit 
down. 

"  I  must  have,"  he  answered,  "  ten  carts  of  straw  and  ten 
carts  of  hay  within  two  hours  —  " 

"Nothing  easier,"  said  Pichegru. 

"  Sixty  resolute  men,  ready  to  risk  all,  at  least  half  of 
whom  can  speak  German  —  " 

"  I  have  a  battalion  of  Alsatians." 

"Thirty  Prussian  uniforms." 

"  They  shall  be  taken  from  the  prisoners." 

"Besides  all  that,  three  thousand  men,  well  commanded, 


220  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC- 

to  be  ready  to  start  from  here  at  ten  o'clock,  pass  Enashausen, 
and  be  close  to  the  gate  of  Wœrtli  leading  to  Haguenau 
by  midnight." 

"  I  will  command  them  myself." 

"This  corps  must  keep  motionless  and  silent  until  it 
hears  the  cry  of  '  Fire  !  '  and  sees  a  blaze.  Then  it  must 
rush  into  the  town,  the  gates  of  which  will  be  open." 

"  Good,"  said  Pichegru  ;  "  I  understand.  But  how  are 
you  going  to  open  the  gates  of  a  town  at  midnight  in  the 
midst  of  war  ?  " 

Stephan  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket. 

"  There  's  a  requisition,"  he  said. 

And  he  put  before  Pichegru  an  order  to  the  citizen 
Bauer,  innkeeper  of  the  Lion  d'Or,  to  deliver  within 
twenty-four  hours  ten  carts  of  straw  and  ten  carts  of  hay 
for  the  Chasseurs  of  Hohenlohe. 

"  You  've  an  answer  to  everything,"  said  Pichegru,  laugh- 
ing. Then  calling  to  Leblanc  he  said  :  "  Give  the  best 
supper  you  can  to  citizen  Stephan,  and  ask  General  Hoche 
and  Charles  to  come  here  to  me." 


THE   ORG  ax-grinder's   PLAN.  221 


XXXI. 

in  which  we  begin  to  perceive  the  organ- 
grinder's  plan. 

The  same  evening,  toward  eight  o'clock,  twenty  carts,  ten 
with  straw,  ten  with  hay,  left  Froeschwiller,  by  the  road  to 
Enashausen.  Each  was  driven  by  a  teamster,  who,  in 
virtue  of  the  axiom  that  French  is  made  to  talk  to  men, 
Italian  to  women,  and  German  to  horses,  was  addressing  his 
animals  in  speech  accentuated  by  those  wonderful  oaths 
which  Schiller,  a  dozen  years  earlier,  put  into  the  mouths 
of  his  brigands. 

Once  out  of  Froeschwiller,  the  carts  went  silently  along 
the  road  leading  to  the  village  of  Enashausen,  situated  at 
an  angle  of  the  road,  where  it  turns  rather  abruptly  toward 
Wœrth.  They  made  no  stop  in  the  village,  further  than  to 
give  the  teamsters  time  for  a  glass  of  brandy,  but  continued 
their  way  steadily  to  Wœrth.  When  they  came  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  gate  the  leading  teamster  stopped 
his  cart,  and  went  alone  to  the  town.  He  had  not  made 
ten  steps  before  he  was  stopped  by  a  sentry,  to  whom  he 
merely  replied  :  — 

"  I  am  bringing  in  some  carts  on  requisition,  and  going 
to  the  guard-house  for  a  permit." 

The  first  sentry  let  him  pass  ;  so  did  the  second,  and  the 
third.  When  he  reached  the  gate  he  handed  a  paper  through 
the  wicket  and  waited.  The  wicket  closed  ;  an  instant  later 
the  little  gate  beside  the  large  gate  opened.  The  sergeant 
on  guard  came  out. 

"  It  is  you,  my  lad,  is  it  ?  "  he  said  ;  "  where  are  your 
carts?" 

"  A  few  rods  back,  sergeant." 


222  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Useless  to  say  that  tins  question  and  the  answer  were 
made  in  German. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  I  '11  go  and  look  at 
them,  and  then  you  can  enter." 

So  saying,  he  called  to  the  guard  to  watch  the  gate  care- 
fully, and  followed  the  teamster.  Together  they  passed  the 
three  sentinels,  and  reached  the  carts,  which  were  waiting 
on  the  main  road.  The  sergeant  cast  a  perfunctory  look 
at  them,  and  gave  the  order  to  pass  on.  Carts  and  cart- 
men  continued  their  way,  passed  the  three  lines  of  sentries, 
and  entered  the  gates,  which  closed  behind  them. 

"Now,"  said  the  sergeant,  "do  you  know  where  the 
barracks  of  the  Chasseurs  of  Hohenlohe  are,  or  shall  I 
send  some  one  with  you  ?  " 

"  That 's  useless,"  replied  the  head  teamster  ;  "  we  are  to 
take  the  carts  to  the  Lion  d'Or,  and  go  to  the  barracks  in 
the  morning,  so  as  not  to  make  a  stir  at  night." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  sergeant,  re-entering  the  guard- 
house.    "  Good-night,  comrades." 

"  Good-night,"  returned  the  teamster. 

The  hôtel  of  the  Lion  d'Or  was  scarcely  more  than 
three  hundred  feet  from  the  gate.  The  head  teamster 
knocked,  and  as  it  was  not  yet  ten  o'clock,  the  master  of 
the  inn  himself  came  out  upon  the  threshold. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  it  is  you,  Stephan,  is  it  ?  "  he  said,  glancing 
at  the  long  line  of  carts,  the  first  of  which  was  before  his 
door,  and  the  last  only  a  few  steps  from  the  gate. 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  Bauer,  in  person,"  replied  the  teamster. 

"  Is  all  well  ?  " 

"All's  well." 

"  No  difficulty  in  getting  in  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest  ;  how  is  it  here  ?  " 

"  All  ready." 

"  The  house  ?  " 

"  Only  a  match  needed." 

"  Then  shall  I  bring  the  carts  into  the  courtyard  ?  The 
men  must  be  stifling." 


THE   OKGAN-GRINDER'S   PLAN.  223 

Happily  the  courtyard  was  immense,  and  the  twenty 
carts  had  room  to  stow  themselves.  The  great  gate  was 
closed,  and  then  at  a  given  signal,  —  three  raps,  from  the 
hand  of  each  teamster,  against  the  side  of  his  vehicle,  —  a 
singular  phenomenon  was  produced. 

The  bales  of  hay  and  straw  began  to  move,  and  from 
each  of  them  came  two  heads,  then  two  bodies,  then  two 
entire  men,  clothed  in  Prussian  uniforms.  Next,  from  each 
cart  another  uniform  was  taken,  which  the  teamsters,  pull- 
ing off  their  cartman's  smock  and  trousers,  put  on.  And 
finally,  to  complete  the  whole,  each  soldier,  still  standing 
in  the  cart,  took  up  his  gun,  and  handed  a  third  to  the  late 
teamster;  so  that  by  half-past  ten  o'clock,  Stephau,  who 
wore  the  overcoat  and  chevrons  of  a  sergeant,  had  the 
sixty  resolute,  German-speaking  men  he  had  requested  of 
Pichegru  under  his  command. 

They  were  stationed  in  a  large  stable,  with  orders  to  load 
îheir  guns  which  had  been,  out  of  precaution,  laid  unloaded 
in  the  hay.  Then  Bauer  and  Stephan  left  the  yard. 
Bauer  guided  Stephan,  who  did  not  know  the  town.  First, 
he  took  him  to  the  house  which  Stephan  had  mentioned. 
It  was  built  at  the  highest  point  of  the  town,  at  the  end 
opposite  to  the  gate  by  which  the  carts  had  entered,  not 
five  hundred  feet  from  the  powder  magazine.  This  house, 
which  bore  some  resemblance  to  the  cottages  of  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Baden  and  of  Switzerland,  was  all  of  wood.  Bauer 
showed  him  a  room  filled  with  combustible  matters  and 
resinous  woods. 

"  At  what  hour  shall  the  fire  be  set  ?  "  asked  Bauer,  as 
if  he  were  speaking  of  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world. 

"  Twelve  o'clock,"  replied  Stephan. 

"  You  are  certain  the  general  will  be  at  the  gate  by  that 
time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  person." 

"  You  understand,"  continued  Bauer,  "  that  when  the 
Prussians  see  that  the  fire  is  near  the  powder  magazine,  they 
will  rush  to  that  end  of  the  town,  to  prevent  its  spreading 


224  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

to  the  magazine,  and  to  the  park  of  artillery  they  have 
there.  During  that  time  the  street  to  the  gate  will  be 
clear,  and  that 's  tlie  moment  to  seize  the  gate,  and  enter 
the  town.  The  general  can  get  as  far  as  the  great  square 
without  firing  a  gun.  At  the  first  shot  there  are  five 
hundred  patriots  ready  to  open  their  windows  and  fire 
down  on  the  Prussians." 

"  Have  you  men  to  sound  the  tocsin  ?  "  asked  Stephan. 

"  I  have  two  in  each  church,"  answered  Bauer. 

"Very  good,  then  all  is  well,"  said  Stephan;  "let  us  just 
give  a  glance  at  the  powder  magazine,  and  go  back." 

They  returned  along  the  ramparts  ;  the  powder  magazine 
and  the  park  of  artillery  were,  as  Bauer  had  said,  not  five 
hundred  feet  from  the  wooden  house,  the  burning  of  which 
was  to  serve  as  a  signal  to  the  patriots  within  and  without 
the  town. 

At  half-past  eleven  they  returned  to  the  Lion  d'Or. 
The  sixty  men  were  ready  ;  each  had  had  a  ration  of  bread 
and  meat  and  wine,  carefully  prepared  for  them  by  Bauer  ; 
and  they  were  full  of  enthusiasm,  understanding  perfectly 
that  a  great  enterprise  was  intrusted  to  them  ;  the  thought 
made  them  happy  and  proud. 

At  a  quarter  to  twelve  Bauer  pressed  Stephan's  hand, 
examined  his  tinder-box,  made  sure  that  the  flint  and 
tinder  and  matches  were  all  there,  and  took  his  way  to  the 
wooden  house.  Stephan,  left  with  his  sixty  men,  explained 
his  plan,  told  each  man  what  he  had  to  do,  and  made  them 
promise  they  would  do  their  best. 

They  waited. 

Twelve  o'clock  struck.  Stephan  watched  the  sky  for  the 
first  gleams  of  the  fire.  Hardly  had  the  last  stroke  died 
away  before  a  ruddy  tint  appeared  on  the  roofs  of  the 
houses  in  the  upper  part  of  the  town.  Then  the  dull 
murmur  of  voices  which  in  a  town  announces  some  accident 
was  heard.  Next  the  alarming  note  of  the  tocsin  clam- 
ored from  one  steeple,  and  was  taken  up  and  repeated 
from  all  the  bell-towers  in  the  town. 


THE   ORGAN-GEINDEE's    PLAN.  225 

Stephan  uow  moved  ;  the  time  had  come.  His  men  were 
standing  in  three  squads  of  twenty  in  the  courtyard.  He 
opened  the  gate  into  the  street.  Every  one  was  running  in 
the  direction  of  the  upper  town.  He  ordered  his  men  to 
march  in  patrol  and  advance  slowly  to  the  gate.  He  him- 
self preceded  them,  running,  and  calling  out  in  German: 

"Fire  !  in  the  upper  town  ;  fire  !  near  the  powder  works; 
fire  !  Save  the  artillery  waggons  !  save  the  magazine  from 
exploding  !  " 

Thus  shouting,  he  reached  the  guard-house  containing  the 
twenty-four  men  who  were  guarding  the  gate  ;  the  sentry, 
who  was  pacing  up  and  down,  never  thought  of  stopping 
him,  taking  him  for  the  sergeant  on  duty.  He  rushed  into 
the  guard-room,  crying  out  :  — 

"  Every  one  to  the  upper  town  !  save  the  artillery-waggons 
and  the  powder  magazine  !     Eire  !  fire  !  " 

Of  all  the  twenty-four  men,  not  one  stayed  behind.  The 
sentry  alone,  unrelieved  from  his  post,  remained.  But  his 
curiosity,  keenly  excited,  made  him  forget  the  proprieties, 
and  he  asked  the  sergeant  eagerly  to  tell  him  what  the 
matter  was.  The  sergeant,  with  much  amenity,  informed 
him  that  a  careless  servant  had  set  fire  to  the  wooden  house 
of  Bauer,  the  landlord  of  the  Lion  d'Or.  During  this  time 
the  patrol  came  up. 

"  Qui  vive  ?  "  said  the  sentinel. 

"Only  the  patrol,"  said  Stephan,  suddenly  putting  a 
handkerchief  in  the  sentry's  mouth  and  pushing  him 
toward  the  two  foremost  men  of  the  patrol,  who  had  the 
ropes  all  ready  to  gag  and  bind  him.  Then  they  took  him 
into  the  guard-house,  locked  him  in  a  room,  and  carried 
away  the  key.  One  of  Stephan's  men  took  the  sentry's  post  ; 
but  it  was  necessary  to  know  the  password.  Stephan  took 
the  key  with  one  hand  and  a  dagger  with  the  other  and  went 
back  to  the  man.  What  means  he  used  we  cannot  say,  but, 
in  spite  of  his  gag,  the  sentr}^  had  spoken. 

The  passwords  were  "  Stettin"  and  "Strasbourg.'*  They 
were  given  to  the  new  sentry. 

VOL.    I. — 15 


226  THE   FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

Then  au  irruption  was  made  into  the  hut  of  the  gate- 
keeper, and  he  too  was  gagged,  bound,  and  put  in  a  cellar. 
Stephan  took  possession  of  the  keys  of  the  gate. 

He  now  put  forty-five  of  his  men  into  the  guard-house 
and  the  hut,  with  four  liundred  rounds  of  ammunition, 
charging  them  to  guard  the  gate  till  the  last  man  of  them 
was  killed.  Then  he  left  the  town,  taking  five  men  with 
him  to  deal  with  the  sentinels  outside. 

In  ten  minutes  two  of  the  latter  were  dead,  and  the  third 
a  prisoner.  Three  of  his  five  men  took  their  places  ;  then, 
with  the  two  others,  Stephan  ran  along  the  road  to 
Enashausen. 

He  had  not  gone  more  than  a  hundred  yards  when  he 
came  upon  a  dark  and  solid  body  of  men  ;  they  were 
Pichegru's  three  thousand,  A  moment  more,  and  he  met 
the  general. 

"  Well  ?  ■  '  said  the  latter. 

"  Not  an  instant  to  lose,  general  ;  come  on  !  " 

"  The  gate  ?  " 

"  Is  ours." 

"  Come,  boys  !  "  shouted  Pichegru,  understanding  that 
this  was  not  the  moment  for  explanations,  "quick  step, 
march  !  " 


THE   TOAST.  227 

XXXII. 

THE   TOAST. 

The  men  obeyed  with  the  joyous  alacrity  of  hope.  They 
picked  up,  one  after  the  other,  two  of  the  sentinels  ;  just  as 
they  reached  the  third  a  sharp  fusillade  was  heard  in  the 
direction  of  the  guard-house  where  Stephan  had  left  his 
men. 

"Quick,  quick,  general!"  cried  Stephan,  "our  men  are 
attacked  !  " 

The  column  broke  into  a  run.  As  it  approached,  the  bolts 
were  drawn  back  and  the  gate  opened.  The  republicans, 
though  attacked  by  a  triple  force,  had  held  firm  ;  the  gate 
was  safely  ours.  The  column  rushed  through  it  amid 
shouts  of  "  Vive  la  République  !  "  Stephan's  men,  whose 
German  uniforms  pointed  them  out  to  those  of  Pichegru's 
soldiers  who  did  not  know  the  ruse,  rushed  into  the  guard- 
house, or  clung  to  the  walls,  to  escape  with  their  lives. 
Like  the  wild-boar  butting  with  his  snout  and  overturn- 
ing everything  on  its  way,  the  column  rushed  along  the 
street,  overthrowing  all  obstacles.  Meantime,  as  it  pressed 
onward  with  fixed  bayonets  and  the  few  Prussians  at  the 
gate  were  flying  before  it,  anxious  to  reach  their  main  body 
and  to  give  warning  that  the  French  were  in  the  town, 
musketry  was  heard  from  various  quarters  of  the  town. 
This  came  from  Bauer  and  his  friends,  who  were  firing  from 
the  windows. 

When  Pichegru  reached  the  principal  square  of  the  town  he 
was  able  to  appreciate  the  alarm  among  the  Prussians.  They 
were  running  hither  and  thither,  not  knowing  which  way 
to  go.  He  immediately  formed  part  of  the  column  in  line 
of  battle  and  fired  upon  the  fugitives,  while  he  sent  a  thou- 
sand men  to  the  upper  town  where  the  crowd  was  greatest. 
In  a  moment  the  fight  was  going  in  a  dozen  different  direc- 


228  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

tions  ;  the  Prussians,  surprised,  did  not  attempt  to  rally  to 
a  given  point,  so  rapid  had  been  the  attack,  and  so  un- 
expected and  bewildering  the  confiagration,  the  tocsin,  and 
the  firing  from  the  windows.  Although  in  point  of  fact 
they  had  in  the  town  a  number  nearly  equal  to  that  of 
Pichegru  and  Macdonald,  they  did  not  make  the  same 
struggle  they  might  have  made  had  the  advantages  not  been 
so  markedly  on  the  side  of  the  French. 

By  one  in  the  morning  the  Prussians  had  abandoned  the 
town,  lighted  on  their  way  by  the  last  flames  from  Bauer's 
house.  But  it  was  not  until  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  that 
Pichegru  had  satisfied  himself  personally  as  to  the  retreat 
of  the  enemy.  He  left  guards  everywhere  ;  watched  the 
gates  with  the  utmost  vigilance,  and  ordered  the  men  to 
bivouac  in  the  streets. 

All  the  people  in  the  town  behaved  as  if  it  were  a  festival, 
and  did  their  best  to  contribute  to  the  welfare  of  their 
benefactors.  Each  brought  his  tribute  ;  some  gave  straw 
and  hay,  others  bread,  others  wine  ;  all  opened  their  houses 
and  lighted  fires,  before  which  spits  were  seen  turning  in 
those  immense  fireplaces  which  were  the  fashion  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  a  few  rare  specimens  remaining  to  the 
present  day. 

Presently  a  sort  of  procession,  like  that  seen  in  the  North- 
ern cities  during  carnival,  was  organized.  The  Prussian 
uniforms  which  Pichegru's  men  had  worn  served  to  dress 
up  effigies  ;  the  town  spontaneously  illuminated  ;  from  top 
to  bottom  of  everj^  house  were  lamps,  lanterns,  and  candles  ; 
the  restaurant-keepers  and  the  wine-merchants  set  tables  in 
the  streets,  and  every  citizen  took  a  soldier  by  the  arm  and 
invited  him  to  the  fraternal  banquet. 

Pichegru  was  careful  not  to  oppose  this  patriotic  demon- 
stration. Man  of  the  people  himself,  he  favored  ever}'- 
thing  that  threw  the  people  and  the  soldiers  in  each  other's 
arms,  — a  double  body,  with  a  single  soul.  He  knew  well, 
intelligent  and  sensible  as  he  was,  that  the  strength  of 
France  lay  there.      Only,  fearing  that  the  enemy  might 


THE   TOAST.  229 

profit  by  some  carelessness,  he  doubled  all  posts,  although, 
in  order  that  every  man  should  share  in  the  festivities,  he 
ordered  them  relieved  every  hour  instead  of  every  two 
hours. 

Resident  in  Wœrth  were  some  twenty  aristocrats,  who 
illuminated  like  the  rest,  and  even  more  splendidly,  fear- 
ing no  doubt  that  some  one  would  accuse  them  of  cold- 
ness toward  the  government,  and  that  the  day  of  reprisals 
having  arrived  they  might  suffer  in  their  persons  and  their 
property.  On  this  occasion  they  feared  without  grounds  ; 
their  sole  punishment  was  to  witness  the  autos-da-fe  before 
their  doors  ;  and  these  autos-da-fe  were  nothing  worse  than 
the  burning  of  straw  men  in  Prussian  uniforms.  The  joy 
expressed  before  these  houses  seemed  greater  if  not  more 
sincere  than  elsewhere,  for  the  fears  of  the  occupants  had 
led  them  to  illuminate  more  gorgeously  and  to  make  the 
demonstration  more  complete  ;  round  the  autos-da-fe  they 
placed  tables,  and  on  these  tables  the  aristocrats,  delighted 
at  being  let  off  so  cheaply,  served  actual  banquets. 

Pichegru  remained  in  the  square,  sabre  in  hand,  sur- 
rounded by  about  a  thousand  men,  prepared  to  carry 
support,  if  needed,  in  any  direction.  But  no  serious  resis- 
tance being  made,  he  continued  where  he  was,  listening  to 
reports,  and  giving  instructions.  When  he  saw  that  the 
order  he  had  given  to  bivouac  in  the  streets  served  as 
a  pretext  for  a  popular  demonstration,  he  promoted  it,  as 
we  have  said,  and  leaving  Macdonald  to  command  in  his 
stead,  he  took  Stephan  as  a  guide,  and  made  his  way  to  the 
upper  town,  where  the  fighting  had  been  heaviest. 

About  three  in  the  morning  he  returned. 

Bauer  had  asked  as  a  favor  that  the  general  would  lodge 
at  the  Lion  d'Or,  and  Pichegru  granted  it.  The  handsomest 
apartments  in  the  hôtel  had  been  prepared  for  him  ;  the 
staircase  was  draped  with  flags,  and  adorned  with  garlands 
and  mottoes  ;  the  windows  of  the  dining-room  were  fes- 
tooned with  branches  of  trees,  and  flowers,  and  the  table 
laid  with  twenty-five  plates  for  the  general  and  his  staff. 


230  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Picliegru,  as  we  have  already  said,  apropos  of  the  dinner 
offered  to  him  at  Arbois,  was  very  indifferent  to  all  such 
triumphal  demonstrations.  But  this  was  a  different  matter, 
and  he  accepted  the  banf[uet  as  a  Republican  love-feast. 
He  brought  back  with  him  the  authorities  of  the  town, 
who  had  not  only  bec;n  the  first  to  surrender  to  him,  but  who 
had  heartily  encouraged  the  inhabitants  in  the  course  they 
had  taken. 

At  the  door  of  the  inn,  just  as  Stephan,  who  had  acted 
as  a  guide,  was  preparing  to  leave  him,  the  general  caught 
him  by  the  arm. 

"  Stephan,"  he  said,  *•'  I  have  always  practised  the  maxim 
that  short  accounts  make  long  friends.  Now  I  have  a 
double  account  to  settle  with  you." 

"  Soon  done,  general,"  said  Stephan  ;  "  grant  me  two 
requests." 

"  They  are  granted." 

"  First,  an  invitation  to  supper." 

"For  yourself  ?" 

"  Oh,  general  !  you  know  very  well  I  am  but  a  spy." 

"In  the  eyes  of  the  world,  but  in  mine  —  " 

"  Let  me  be  myself  in  yours,  and  that 's  enough,  general  ; 
I  will  remain  to  others  what  I  seem  to  be.  My  ambition 
is  for  something  far  beyond  the  consideration  of  men,  — 
it  aims  at  vengeance." 

"  Well  then,  what  next  ?  " 

"  That  you  give  a  toast." 

«  To  whom  ?  " 

"  You  shall  see  when  you  give  it." 

"  But  I  must  know  who  it  is,  in  order  to  give  it." 

"  Here  it  is,  written  down." 

Pichegru  wished  to  read  it;   Stephan  stopped  him. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "'  when  you  give  the  toast,  read  it." 

Pichegru  put  the  paper  in  his  pocket. 

"And  whom  do  you  wish  me  to  invite  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  great  citizen,  Prosper  Bauer." 

«  The  master  of  the  hôtel  ?  " 


THE   TOAST.  231 

"  Yes." 

"  What  has  he  done  to  make  him  great  ?  " 

"  You  will  know  when  you  read  the  paper." 

"  You  are  always  mysterious." 

"  In  mystery  lies  my  strength." 

"  You  know  that  to-morrow  we  attack  the  enemy." 

"  Do  you  want  any  more  information  about  him  ?  " 

"  You  are  too  tired." 

"  I  am  never  tired." 

"Do  what  you  like;  all  you  do  will  be  well  done  — 
unless  you  let  yourself  be  captured." 

"  At  what  hour  can  I  report  to  you  ?  " 

"Any  hour.  If  you  are  never  tired,  I  have  another 
quality, —  I  never  sleep." 

"  Au  revoir,  general." 

"Au  revoir." 

Turning  toward  the  group  of  persons  who  had  stepped 
aside  during  his  talk  with  Stephan,  he  looked  in  vain  for 
the  innkeeper  ;  not  seeing  him,  he  called  to  Charles. 

"  Charles,"  he  said,  "  do  me  the  kindness  to  find  the 
landlord.  Prosper  Bauer,  and  beg  him,  from  me,  to  do  us 
the  lienor  to  sup  with  us.  You  are  not  to  allow  any  excuse, 
you  are  not  even  to  listen  to  any." 

Charles  bowed  and  set  off  in  search  of  citizen  Prosper 
Bauer.  Pichegru  went  upstairs.  The  others  followed. 
He  put  the  mayor  at  his  right,  and  the  assistant  mayor  at 
his  left,  keeping  the  seat  opposite  to  him  vacant.  That 
place  was  for  the  landlord  of  the  Lion  d'Or. 

Bauer  arrived,  timid  and  embarrassed,  almost  dragged 
along  by  Charles. 

"  General,"  he  said,  addressing  Pichegru,  "  I  do  not  come 
on  your  invitation,  of  which  I  feel  myself  unworthy,  but 
at  your  order." 

"Very  good,  citizen,"  said  Pichegru,  pointing  to  the 
empty  chair  opposite  to  him  ;  ''  take  your  place  there  and 
we  will  settle  the  matter  after  supper." 

The   meal  was  merry;   deliverers  and   delivered   drank 


232  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

together.  Hatreds  are  bitter  between  our  worthy  inhabi- 
tants of  Alsace  and  the  Prussians,  and  during  the  past  two 
months,  since  the  latter  had  forced  the  lines  of  Weissem- 
bourg,  the  Alsatians  found  many  reasons  to  hate  them  still 
more  bitterly.  This  time  they  hoped  to  be  rid  of  them  for- 
ever. Twenty -five  years  later  they  were  destined  to  again 
see  that  insatiable  black  eagle,  which,  after  devouring  one 
third  of  the  white  eagle  of  Poland  and  the  lion  of  Hanover, 
returned  again  to  wrench  off  one  head  of  the  bicephalous 
bird  of  Austria. 

The  supper  was  splendid,  the  best  wines  of  France  and 
Austria  flowed.  When  the  time  came  for  champagne,  that 
sparkling  wine  of  toasts,  the  general  remembered  his 
promise  to  Stephan.  He  rose,  took  his  glass  in  one  hand, 
and  unfolded  the  paper  witli  the  other.  All  present  rose, 
and  then  in  the  midst  of  the  deepest  silence  he  read  as 
follows  •  — 

"  To  that  eminent  patriot,  citizen  Prosper  Bauer,  who 
alone  conceived  the  plan  which  recovered  for  France  the 
town  of  Wcerth  ;  who  risked  his  life  by  receiving  at  his 
inn  sixty  of  our  men  in  Prussian  uniforms  ;  who  first 
gave  the  signal  to  five  hundred  other  patriots  to  fire  from 
the  windows  ;  and  who,  to  draw  the  Prussians  to  the  upper 
town  and  divert  them  from  the  gate,  set  fire  to  his  own 
house  with  his  own  hands.  Let  us  drink  to  the  man  who 
in  one  day  risked  his  life  and  gave  his  fortune." 

Pichegru  was  forced  to  stop, —  the  applause  burst  forth 
three  times  with  triple  ardor  ;  but  he  made  a  sign  that 
there  was  more  to  say  ;  silence  fell  again,  and  he  continued 
in  a  ringing  voice  :  — 

"May  France  and  foreign  nations  read  upon  our  con- 
quering banners,  by  the  glare  of  that  pharos  lighted  by 
the  purest  patriotism  and  the  most  filial  devotion  :  Hatred 
to  tyrants  !  Nationality  of  Peoples  !  Liberty  to  mankind  ! 
Honor  to  the  eminent  patriot,  the  great  citizen  Prosper 
Bauer  !  " 

Then  in  the  midst  of  hurrahs  and  plaudits   and  bravos 


THE   TOAST.  233 

Pichegru  went  up  to  him,  and  embraced  him  in  the  name 
of  France.  Three  days  later  the  taking  of  Woerth  was 
announced  in  the  "  Moniteur,"'  with  Pichegru's  toast  re- 
ported in  full.  It  was  the  only  indemnity  the  worthy 
Bauer  would  consent  to  receive. 


234  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

XXXIII. 

THE    OKDER    OF    THE    DAY. 

However  much  we  may  have  wished  not  to  involve  our- 
selves in  tales  of  sieges  and  of  battles,  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  that  we  should  now  follow  Hoche  and  Pichegru 
along  their  triumphant  course.  One  or  two  chapters  will 
suffice  to  bring  to  a  close  this  first  part  of  our  narrative, 
which  we  are  anxious  to  continue  until  the  moment  when 
the  enemy  is  driven,  on  this  side  at  least,  beyond  the 
frontiers  of  France.  In  fact,  as  we  shall  see,  after  the 
three  victories  of  Dawendorff,  Frœschwiller,  and  Wœrth, 
the  enemy  himself  took  the  frontier  route. 

At  four  in  the  morning  Stephan  came  to  announce  to 
Pichegru  that  the  Prussians,  bewildered  and  astonished  at 
the  manner  in  Avhich  they  had  been  driven  from  Wœrth, 
had  abandoned  their  positions  and  were  retreating  in  two 
columns  through  the  notches  of  the  Vosges  mountains,  one 
towards  Drachenbronn,  the  other  to  Lembach. 

The  moment  that  Wœrth  was  in  our  power  Pichegru 
dispatched  an  aide-de-camp  to  Hoche  to  announce  to  him 
the  results  of  the  day  and  tell  him  that  on  the  following 
morning,  or  rather  that  morning  at  five  o'clock,  he  should 
make  a  sortie  in  three  columns  and  attack  the  enemy  in 
front.  He  invited  Hoche  to  leave  the  intrenchments,  march 
on  Gœrsdorff  and  attack  in  flank.  The  retreat  of  the 
Prussians  rendered  this  manœuvre  useless.  Doumerc, 
roused  from  his  sleep,  jumped  on  his  horse,  and  dashed  off 
to  tell  Hoche  to  pursue  the  enemy,  while  Pichegru  turned 
aside  to  Haguenau,  to  retake  that  town. 

But  at  the  moment  when  Pichegru  at  the  head  of  his 
column  reached  the  heights  of  Spachbach,  he  met  a  messen- 
ger sent  to  him  by  the  mayor  of  Haguenau   to  tell   him 


THE   ORDER   OF   THE   DAY.  235 

that  tlie  Prussian  garrison,  hearing  of  the  triple  victory 
which  cut  off  their  communications  with  the  corps  under 
Hodge  and  Wurmser  had  evacuated  the  town  during  the 
night,  marched  through  the  woods  at  Souffelnheim,  and 
recrossed  the  Rhine  near  Fort  Vauban.  Pichegru  there- 
upon detached  a  thousand  men  and  sent  them,  under 
command  of  Lieber,  to  occupy  Haguenau  ;  then,  retracing 
his  steps,  he  passed  again  through  Woerth,  took  the  road 
to  Pruschdorff  and  slept  that  night  at  Lobsam. 

Stephan  was  sent  to  inform  Hoche  of  this  unexpected 
return  and  invite  him  to  make  the  greatest  haste  to  join 
Pichegru  and  recover  at  once  the  lines  of  Weissembourg. 

The  country  through  which  they  passed,  presented  the 
spectacle  of  an  irruption  which  must  have  been  something 
like  that  which  furrowed  the  earth  in  the  times  of  the 
Huns,  Vandals,  or  Burgundians.  The  Austrians,  forced  to 
leave  the  line  of  the  Moder,  had  retired  to  the  lines  of 
Weissembourg,  on  this  side  of  the  Lauter,  and  here  they 
intended  to  give  battle.  They  were  under  the  command  of 
Marshal  Wurmser. 

The  Prussians  had  done  likewise  ;  ascending  the  river 
Sauerbach,  under  command  of  Hodge,  they  crossed  the 
river  at  Lembach  and  made  their  junction  with  the  Aus- 
trians at  Weissembourg. 

But  the  curious  part  of  it  was  that  the  rapid  retreat 
of  the  two  armies  bore  with  it  all  the  émigrés  and  all 
the  Alsatian  nobles  who  had  come  in  the  wake  of  the 
armies  with  their  families,  and  who  were  now  fleeing  back 
as  best  they  could.  The  roads  were  covered  with  chariots, 
carriages,  horses,  forming  an  inextricable  tangle,  through 
which  our  soldiers  forced  their  way  Avithout  seeming  to 
notice  that  they  were  in  the  midst  of  a  population  of  the 
enemy,  who,  strangely  enough,  as  soon  as  our  men  had 
passed  through  them,  appeared  to  be  following  the  army 
they  were  really  escaping. 

The  two  French  generals  made  their  junction  at  Roth. 
At  the  same  moment  great  cries  of  "  Vive  la  République  !  " 


236  THE  FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

were  heard  :  the  ranks  of  the  soldiers  opened,  and  the  two 
representatives  commissioned  to  the  armies,  Saint-Just  and 
Lebas,  made  their  appearance.  They  had  supposed  that 
the  enemy  would  cling  tenaciously  to  his  lines  and  that 
their  presence  with  the  army  would  encourage  the  troops. 

The  two  representatives  and  their  suite  joined  the  head- 
quarters of  the  two  generals,  to  whom  they  paid  many 
compliments  on  the  successive  battles  which  had  now  so 
completely  cleared  the  way.  Charles  had  been  the  first  to 
recognize  the  representative  from  the  department  of  the 
Aisne,  crying  out  :  — 

*' Ah  !  here  's  the  citizen  Saint-Just  !  " 

Pichegru  stooped  and  said  in  his  ear,  — 

"  Not  a  word  about  that  fatigue-cap,  young  one." 

"  I  '11  be  sure  of  that  !  "  exclaimed  Charles  ;  "  ever  since 
he  told  me  how  he  shot  his  best  friend  I  distrust  him." 

"  And  rightly,  too." 

Saint-Just  came  up  to  Pichegru  and  congratulated  him  in 
a  few  brief,  incisive  words.     Then,  recognizing  Charles,  — 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said,  "  so,  between  a  toga  and  a  sword,  you 
have  chosen  the  sword,  have  you  ?  Don't  let  him  be  killed, 
citizen  Pichegru  ;  he  is  an  honest  boy  who  will  make  an 
honest  man,  and  that's  a  rare  thing."  Taking  Pichegru 
aside,  he  went  on,  "  My  police  tell  me,  though  I  cannot 
believe  it,  that  you  had  an  interview  at  Dawendorff  with 
an  emissary  of  the  ci-devant  Prince  de  Condé,  I  say  again, 
I  did  not  believe  it." 

"Nevertheless  it  is  true,  citizen  Saint- Just." 

"  What  did  he  come  for  ?  " 

"To  make  treasonable  propositions." 

"What  were  they  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  ;  I  was  filling  my  pipe  at  the  time,  and 
I  lighted  it  with  the  letter  of  the  Prince  de  Condé,  without 
reading  what  he  said." 

"  Of  course  you  ordered  the  messenger  to  be  shot  ?  " 

"  I  took  good  care  not  to." 

"  Why  so  ?  " 


THE   ORDER   OF   THE   DAY.  237 

"  If  he  were  dead  he  could  not  tell  the  prince  with  what 
contempt  I  treated  his  proposals." 

"  Pichegru,  you  had  some  secret  purpose  behind  such 
clemency  ?  " 

*'  Yes  ;  that  of  fighting  the  enemy  at  Frœschwiller  the 
next  day,  taking  Wœrth  the  day  after,  and  forcing  their 
lines  to-day." 

"  Then  Hoche  and  you  are  really  ready  to  march  against 
the  enemy  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  we  always  are,  citizen  representative  ; 
above  all,  when  you  honor  us  with  your  company." 

"  Very  good,  then  forward  !  "  said  Saint-Just. 

He  sent  Lebas  to  Hoche  to  order  him  to  advance  to  the 
attack.  The  drums  and  the  trumpets  sounded  on  all  sides, 
and  the  march  was  resumed. 

Chance  willed  that  the  same  day,  December  26,  the 
Austrians  and  Prussians  determined,  if  not  to  resume  the 
offensive,  to  make  a  stand  before  Weissembourg  ;  so  that 
the  French,  arriving  at  the  brow  of  a  hill,  saw  the  enemy 
ranged  in  battle  before  them  from  Weissembourg  to  the 
Rhine,  The  position  was  good  for  the  offensive,  but  not  for 
the  defensive  ;  the  Lauter  being  a  gulf  into  which  they 
might  be  driven  in  case  of  defeat.  Therefore  their  advanced 
guard  marched  forward  at  once  to  the  attack. 

Seeing  this,  Hoche  and  Pichegru  concluded  that  the 
weight  of  the  battle  would  fall  on  their  centre,  and  they 
gathered  there  a  mass  of  thirty-five  thousand  men;  while 
three  divisions  of  the  Army  of  the  Moselle  threatened  the 
enemy's  right  from  the  ravines  of  the  Vosges,  and  two 
other  divisions,  commanded  by  an  aide-de-camp  of  General 
Broglie  (who  saw  his  first  service  that  day  with  the  Army 
of  the  Ehine)  advanced  to  the  attack  by  Lauterbourg. 
That  young  aide-de-camp,  who  was  scarcely  twenty-seven 
years  old,  was  named  Antoine  Desaix. 

Suddenly  Saint-Just  and  Lebas,  who  were  marching,  one 
on  the  battle  front  of  Pichegru,  the  other  on  the  battle  front 
of  Lebas,  cried  out  almost  simultaneously  :  "  Halt  !  "     They 


238  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

were  then  not  a  cannon-shot  from  the  enemy,  and  it  was 
evident  that  in  half  an  hour  the  two  armies  would  come 
together,  hand  to  hand. 

"  Citizen  Pichegru,"  said  Saint-Just  (and  Lebas  said  the 
same  to  Hoche),  "  call  up  your  officers  ;  I  have  a  communica- 
tion to  make  to  them  before  the  battle." 

"  Officers  to  the  front  !  "  cried  Pichegru. 

The  generals  of  brigade,  the  colonels,  aides-de-camp,  and 
captains  repeated  the  order,  which  was  passed  along  the 
lines.  Instantly  all  officers  of  every  grade,  even  to  the 
sub-lieutenants,  left  the  ranks  and  formed  an  immense 
circle  around  Saint-Just  and  Pichegru,  and  around  Lebas 
and  Hoche  on  the  other  front. 

This  movement  took  at  least  ten  minutes.  The  officers 
alone  moved  ;  the  soldiers  stood  motionless.  Meantime  the 
Prussians  and  Austrians  advanced,  and  the  noise  of  their 
drums  and  bugles  began  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  French. 

Saint-Just  drew  a  printed  sheet  from  his  pocket  ;  it  was 
the  "  Moniteur." 

"  Citizens,"  he  said,  in  that  strident  voice  of  his  which 
had  such  mighty  power  that  it  was  heard  distinctly  at  a 
distance  of  five  hundred  yards.  "  I  wish  before  the  fight 
begins  to  tell  you  some  good  news." 

"  What  news  ?  "  cried  all  the  officers,  with  one  voice. 

Just  then  a  battery  of  the  enemy  opened,  and  its 
projectiles  picked  out  their  victims  in  the  French  ranks. 
An  officer,  with  his  head  blown  off,  fell  at  Saint-Just's  feet, 
but  he  seemed  not  to  notice,  and  calmly,  in  the  same  voice, 
went  on  :  — 

"  The  English  are  driven  from  Toulon,  that  infamous  town. 
The  tricolor  flag  waves  over  it.  Here,"  he  continued,  "  is 
the  '  Moniteur  '  which  contains  not  only  the  official  announce- 
ment but  the  details  ;  I  would  read  them  to  you  if  we  were 
not  under  fire  of  the  enemy." 

*'  Read  them,"  said  Pichegru. 

"  Read  them,  citizen  representative  of  the  people,  read 
them  !  "  cried  the  officers. 


THE   ORDER   OF   THE   DAY.  239 

The  soldiers,  in  whose  ranks  the  first  discharge  had 
opened  some  gaps,  looked  impatiently  at  the  circle  of  officers. 
A  second  discharge  was  heard,  and  again  a  hailstorm  of  iron 
came  hissing  by.     Other  openings  were  made. 

"  Close  up  the  ranks  !  "  cried  Pichegru. 

*'  Close  up  !  "  repeated  the  officers,  and  the  spaces  dis- 
appeared. 

In  the  midst  of  the  circle  a  horse  fell,  struck  by  a  piece  of 
shell.  The  rider  disentangled  his  feet  from  the  stirrups 
and  approached  Saint-Just  to  hear  better. 

Saint-Just  read  :  — 

28th  Frimaire,  year  II.  of  the  Republic,  one  and  indivisible. 

Eleven  at  night. 

The  Citizen  Dugommier  to  the  National  Convention  : 

Citizen  Representatives,  —  Toulon  is  in  our  power.  Yester- 
day we  took  Fort  Mulgrave  and  Little-Gibraltar. 

To-day  the  English  have  evacuated  the  forts  and  burned  the 
French  fleet  and  the  Arsenal.  The  storehouse  of  masts  is  on  fire  ; 
twenty  vessels  are  burned,  eleven  of  which  are  line-of-battle  ships,  and 
six  are  frigates  :  fifteen  were  carried  off  ;  thirty-eight  are  saved. 

At  ten  o'clock  this  evening  Colonel  Cervoni  entered  the  town. 
To-morrow  I  will  write  you  again.     Vive  la  République  ! 

"Vive  la  République  1"  cried  the  officers. 

"  Vive  la  République  !  "  echoed  the  whole  centre  and  the 
right  wing. 

A  third  cannonade  was  heard,  and  more  than  one  cry  of 
"  Vive  la  République  !  "  was  begun  and  never  ended. 

"  Here,"  continued  Saint- Just,  "  is  a  letter  from  our 
colleague  Barras,  who  is  ordered  to  punish  the  city  of 
Toulon  ;  it  is  addressed  to  the  National  Convention." 

Citizen  Representatives,  —  The  majority  of  the  infamous 
inhabitants  of  Toulon  have  embarked  on  the  vessels  of  Hood  and 
Sidney  Smith;  consequently,  national  justice  cannot  be  vindicated  as 
it  should  be.  But,  happily,  the  houses  could  not  be  torn  from  their 
foundations  ;  the  city  remains,  in  order  that  it  may  be  made  to  dis- 
appear beneath  the  vengeance  of  the  Republic,  like  those  accursed 


240  THE    FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

towns  of  which  uo  trace  is  left.  We  thought  at  first  of  destroying 
the  place  by  mine?,  but  that  might  have  blown  up  the  magazines  and 
Arsenal.  We  have  therefore  sent  for  all  the  masons  of  the  six  sur- 
rounding departments,  who  with  their  tools  will  raze  the  city  to  the 
ground.  With  an  army  of  twelve  thousand  masons,  the  work  can  be 
done  with  speed,  and  in  fifteen  days  ntot  one  stone  shall  be  left  upon 
another  in  Toulon. 

To-morrow  the  fusillades  begin,  and  will  last  until  there  are  no 
more  traitors  to  be  shot. 

Greeting  and  fraternity  !     Vive  la  République  ! 

The  enemy  continued  to  advance  ;  the  roll  of  the  drums 
and  the  blare  of  the  trumpets  could  be  heard,  and  also,  from 
time  to  time,  as  the  wind  brought  them,  the  melodious  notes 
of  the  military  bands.  All  was  presently  drowned  m  the 
roar  of  cannon.  A  hail  of  grapeshot  fell  upon  the  French 
lines,  and  especially  among  the  circle  of  the  officers. 

Pichegru  rose  in  his  stirrups  ;  seeing  a  certain  disorder 
among  the  men,  he  cried  out  :  — 

"  To  your  ranks  !  " 

"  To  your  ranks  !  "  repeated  the  officers. 

Again  the  lines  formed  compactly. 

"  Ground  arms  !  "  cried  Pichegru. 

And  the  butts  of  fifteen  thousand  muskets  touched  the 
ground  with  admirable  regularity. 

"  Now,"  said  Saint-Just,  without  the  slightest  alteration 
being  noticeable  in  his  voice,  "here  is  a  communication 
from  the  minister  of  war  ;  it  is  addressed  to  me,  but  only  for 
transmission  to  Generals  Hoche  and  Pichegru." 

Citizen  Representative,  —  1  have  received  the  following 
letter  from  citizen  Dutheil,  junior  ;  — 

"  Toulon  is  in  the  power  of  the  Republic  ;  the  cowardice  and  perfidy 
of  our  enemies  have  reached  their  height  ;  our  artillery  has  been 
magnificent,  —  to  that  we  owe  our  victory  ;  not  a  soldier  was  less 
than  a  hero,  and  their  officers  set  them  the  glorious  example.  Words 
fail  me  to  express  the  value  of  Colonel  Bonaparte.  Much  knowledge, 
much  intelligence,  too  much  daring,  —  that  gives  a  faint  idea  of  the 
merits  of  this  officer.  It  is  for  you,  minister,  to  advance  him  for  the 
glory  of  the  Republic.'' 


THE   ORDER   OF   THE   DAY.  241 

I  have  promoted  Colonel  Bonaparte  to  be  general  of  brigade,  and  I 
beg  you  to  tell  Generals  Hoche  and  Fichegru  to  put  his  name  in  their 
orders  of  the  day.  The  same  honors  will  be  shown  to  the  brave  man 
whose  name  they  send  me  as  having  been  the  first  to  cross  the  lines 
at  Weissembourg. 

"  You  hear,  citizens,"  said  Pichegru,  "  that  the  name  of 
Colonel  Bonaparte  is  in  the  orders  of  the  day  of  this  army. 
Each  of  you  return  to  your  post,  and  communicate  that 
name  to  your  men.  Now  that  the  English  are  beaten  it  is 
the  turn  of  the  Prussians  and  Austrians  !  Forward,  march  ! 
Vive  la  République  !  " 

The  name  of  Bonaparte,  which  had  just  burst  so  gloriously 
into  light,  ran  from  rank  to  rank,  and  a  mighty  shout  of 
"  Vive  la  République  !  "  went  up  from  forty  thousand 
throats  ;  the  drums  beat  the  charge,  the  trumpets  sounded, 
the  bands  rang  out  the  Marseillaise,  and  the  whole  army,  so 
long  detained,  sprang  forward  as  one  man  to  meet  the 
enemy. 

voi»  I. — 16 


242  TliE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXXIV. 

FARAUD    AND    FALOU. 

The  object  of  the  campaigu,  winch,  as  we  know,  had  been 
to  reconquer  the  lines  of  Weissembourg,  was  accomplished; 
in  ten  days,  from  north  to  south,  at  Landau  and  at  Toulon, 
the  enemy  had  been  driven  out  of  France  ;  the  soldiers 
were  now  to  have  the  rest  they  so  much  needed.  At 
Kaiserlautern,  Guermersheim,  and  Landau  immense  sup- 
plies of  cloth,  shoes,  forage,  and  provisions  had  been 
found.  In  one  storehouse  alone  at  Kaiserlautern,  over  a 
thousand  blankets  were  taken. 

The  time  had  come  for  Pichegru  to  fulfil  the  promises 
he  had  made  to  his  men.  The  accounts  of  paymaster 
Estève  were  all  in;  the  twenty-five  thousand  francs  al- 
lotted to  the  battalion  of  the  Indre  were  deposited  with 
the  general,  with  an  additional  twelve  hundred,  the  auction 
price  of  the  two  cannon  captured  by  that  battalion.  This 
sum  of  twenty-six  thousand  two  hundred  francs  was  liter- 
ally immense,  for  it  was  all  in  gold  ;  the  louis  d'or  at  that 
time,  when  six  thousand  millions  of  assignats  were  in  cir- 
culation, was  worth  seven  hundred  and  twelve  francs  of 
the  paper  money. 

The  general  issued  an  order  that  Faraud  and  the  two  men 
who  had  accompanied  him  when  he  was  sent  with  a  message 
from  the  battalion  should  be  brought  before  him.  All  three 
arrived, —  Faraud  with  the  chevrons  of  a  sergeant-major,  the 
other  two  with  those  of  a  corporal. 

"  Here  I  am,  general,"  said  Faraud  ;  "  and  these  are  the 
two  comrades.  Corporal  Groseiller,  and  fusileer  Vincent." 

"  You  are  welcome,  all  three  of  you." 

"  You  are  very  good,  general,"  replied  Faraud,  with  the 
usual  twist  of  his  neck. 


FARAUD    AND   FALOU.  243 

"  You  know  that  twenty-five  thousand  francs  were  al- 
lotted for  the  widows  and  orphans  of  the  dead  in  the 
battalion  of  the  Indrc  ?  " 

"  Yes,  general,"  replied  Faraud. 

"  To  which  sum  the  battalion  has  added  twelve  hundred 
francs  ?  " 

"  Yes,  general,  by  the  same  token  that  it  was  an  idiot 
named  Faraud  who  was  carrying  them  tied  up  m  a  handker- 
chief, and  let  them  drop  in  stupefaction,  when  he  heard  he 
was  sergeant-major." 

"  Will  you  answer  for  that  idiot  that  he  won't  do  it 
again  ?  " 

*'0n  the  word  of  a  sergeant-major,  general,  even  though 
you  were  to  make  him  a  colonel." 

"  We  have  n't  got  to  that  yet." 

"  So  much  the  worse,  general." 

"  Still,  I  am  going  to  promote  you." 

"  Me  !  " 

"  Yes." 

"  What,  again  ?  " 

"  I  make  you  paymaster." 

"  In  place  of  citizen  Estève  ?  "  said  Faraud,  with  his 
famous  twist.     "Thanks,  general,  the  place  is  a  good  one." 

'*  No,  not  exactly,"  said  Pichegru,  laughing  at  the  frater- 
nal familiarity  that  makes  the  strength  of  armies,  and 
which  the  Revolution  introduced  into  ours. 

"  More  's  the  pity  !  "  said  Faraud. 

"  I  make  you  paymaster  in  the  department  of  the  Indre, 
to  the  amount  of  twenty-six  thousand  two  hundred  francs  ; 
that  is  to  say,  I  charge  you — you,  and  those  two  comrades 
of  yours,  as  a  reward  for  the  satisfaction  your  conduct  has 
given  to  me  —  to  distribute  that  sum  among  the  families 
whose  names  are  on  this  paper." 

And  the  general  gave  Faraud  a  list,  drawn  up  by  the 
quarter-masters. 

"  Ah,  general  !  "  cried  Faraud,  "  that 's  a  reward  indeed  ! 
What  a  pity  they  've  deposed  the  good  God." 


244  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

"  Why  so  ?  " 

''  Because  the  prayers  of  those  families  would  have  sent 
us  straight  to  heaven." 

"As  for  that,"  said  Pichegru,  "by  the  time  you  are 
ready  to  go  there,  probably  he  will  have  been  reinstated. 
Now,  how  do  you  propose  to  go  on  your  mission  ?  " 

"  Where,  general  ?  " 

"  To  the  department  of  the  Indre  ;  there  are  several  others 
to  pass  through  before  you  get  there." 

"On  foot,  general.  It  will  take  some  time,  but  that 
does  n't  matter." 

"Well,  I  wanted  to  see  what  you'd  say,  brave  hearts 
that  you  are  !  See  here,  this  is  a  purse  for  your  expenses  : 
nine  hundred  francs  ;    three  hundred  for  each  of  you." 

"  We  can  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  on  that." 

"But  you  mustn't  stop  every  third  mile  or  so  for  a 
tipple." 

"We  won't  stop  at  all." 

"Not  at  all?" 

"  No,  I  '11  take  the  Goddess  Eeason  with  me." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  add  three  hundred  francs  for  the 
travelling  expenses  of  the  Goddess  Reason;  there!  there's 
a  cheque  on  citizen  Estève." 

"  Thank  you,  general  ;  Avhen  shall  we  start  ?  " 

"The  sooner  the  better." 

"  To-day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  off  with  you,  my  boys  ;  and  good  luck  to  you. 
Only,  at  the  first  cannon  —  " 

"  Back  at  roll-call,  general." 

"  Very  good.  Now  go  and  tell  them  to  send  me  citizen 
Falou." 

The  three  soldiers  departed. 

Five  minutes  later  citizen  Falou  presented  himself, 
wearing  at  his  side,  with  infinite  majesty,  the  general's 
sabre.  Since  the  general  had  last  seen  him  a  slight  change 
had  come  over  his  countenance.  A  gash,  beginning  at  the 
ear,  and  ending  at  the  lip,  had  laid  open  the  right  cheek  ; 


FARAUD   AND   FALOU.  245 

the  lips  of  the  wound  were   held  together  by   straps   of 
plaster. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  said  Pichegru,  "  it  seems  you  were  rather  late 
with  your  tac." 

"  No,  it  was  n't  that,  general,"  said  Falou  ;  "  there  were 
three  of  them  after  me,  and  before  I  could  kill  two,  the 
third  gave  me  that  razor  cut.  It  is  n't  anything  ;  it  would 
be  dry  now  if  there  was  any  wind  ;  unluckily  the  weather 
is  so  damp." 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  I  'm  not  sorry  it  happened." 

"  Thank  you,  general  ;  a  fine  scar  like  that  is  no  injury 
to  a  man's  appearance." 

"  That 's  not  what  I  mean." 

"What  then?" 

"  It  gives  me  a  chance  to  grant  you  a  furlough." 

"  A  furlough,  —  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  you." 

"  Oh,  general,  see  here  !  no  nonsense  ;  I  hope  you  don't 
mean  a  lasting  furlough  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  —  only  for  fifteen  days." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  go  and  see  mother  Falou." 

" Poor  old  dear  !  that's  true." 

"  You  want  to  take  her  your  back-pay,  you  know." 
■    "  Ah,  general  !  you  have  no  idea  what  a  lot  of  brandy 
poultices  it  takes  for  wounds  ;  they  are  like  a  mouth  ;  they 
drink  and  drink,  —  you  can't  imagine." 

"But  I  can  guess  that  your  pay  is  cut  into." 

"  Worse  than  my  sabre  was  when  you  saw  fit  to  give  me 
a  new  one." 

"  Well,  I'll  do  for  your  pay  as  I  did  for  your  sabre." 

"  You  don't  mean  you  '11  give  me  more  ?  " 

"Here,  take  that.  The  Prince  de  Condé  bears  the 
expense." 

"  Gold  !  oh,  what  a  pity  the  old  woman  is  blind  !  the  sight 
would  have  reminded  her  of  the  good  times  when  there 
was  gold."  .    .  - 


246  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  She  will  have  eyes  enough  to  sew  the  sergeant^*  fcc/ap 
on  your  sleeve  that  the  Prussians  have  cut  into  your 
cheek." 

''  Sergeant,  sergeant  of  cavalry  !    I,  general  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  rank  they  have  written  on  your 
furlough." 

*'True,"  said  Falou,  looking  at  the  document,  "there  it 
is,  with  all  its  letters." 

"  Get  ready  to  start." 

"  To-day  ?  " 

«  ïo-day." 

"  On  foot,  or  on  horseback  ?  " 

"  In  a  carriage." 

"  Carriage  !  —  I  in  a  carriage  ?  " 

'*In  a  post-chaise,  too." 

"  Like  the  hounds  of  the  king  when  he  went  on  a  hunt  ! 
Might  I  know  why  I  'm  to  have  that  honor  ?  " 

"  My  secretary,  Charles,  who  is  going  to  Besançon,  will 
take  you  with  him  and  bring  you  back." 

'*  General,"  said  Falou,  clicking  his  heels  together  and 
bringing  his  hand  to  his  kepi,  "it  remains  for  me  to 
thank  you." 

Pichegru  gave  him  a  nod  and  a  wave  of  the  hand  ;  Falou 
pirouetted  on  his  heels,  and  departed. 

"  Charles  !  Charles  !  "  called  Pichegru. 

Charles,  who  was  in  the  next  room,  ran  in. 

"  Here  I  am,  general,"  he  said. 

"  Where  is  Abattucci  ?  " 

"With  us,  general.  He  is  making  out  the  report  you 
asked  for." 

"  Will  it  soon  be  ready  ?  " 

"  Ready  now,  general,"  said  Abattucci,  appearing  at  the 
door  with  a  paper  in  his  hand. 

Charles  made  a  motion  to  retire  ;  the  general  caught  him 
by  the  wrist. 

"Stop,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  speak  to  you."  Then 
addressing  Abattucci,  "  How  many  flags  ?  "  he  asked. 


FARAUD   AND   FALO0.  247 

"Five,  general." 

"  Cannon  ?  " 

"  Twenty-eight." 

"  Prisoners  ?  " 

"  Three  thousand." 

"  How  many  of  the  enemy  killed  ?  " 

"  You  may  safely  say  seven  thousand." 

*'  How  many  did  we  lose  ?  " 

"  Scarcely  two  thousand  five  hundred." 

"You  are  to  start  for  Paris,  with  the  rank  of  colonel, 
which  I  have  asked  for  you  of  the  government.  You  will 
present  the  flags  to  the  Convention  in  General  Hoche's 
name  and  mine,  and  you  will  hand  in  the  report  which 
General  Hoche  is  no  doubt  preparing.  Esteve  will  give 
you  a  thousand  francs  for  the  expenses  of  your  journey. 
The  choice  I  make  of  you  personally  to  convey  these  flags 
to  the  Convention,  and  the  promotion  I  have  asked  for  you, 
sufficiently  prove  my  opinion  of  your  talents  and  courage. 
If  you  see  your  cousin  Bonaparte,  remind  him  that  I  was 
his  tutor  at  Brienne," 

Abattucci  wrung  the  hand  the  general  held  out  to  him, 
and  departed. 

"  Now  for  you  and  me,  my  little  Charles,"  said  Pichegru. 


248  THE   FIfiST  KEPUBLIC. 


XXXV. 

IN  WHICH  ABATTUCCI  FULFILS  THE  MISSION  HE  RECEIVED 
FROM  HIS  GENERAL,  AND  CHARLES  THAT  WHICH  HE 
RECEIVED    FROM    GOD. 

PiCHEGRU  cast  an  eye  about  him  to  see  if  they  were  quite 
alone  ;  then,  looking  at  Charles,  he  took  the  boy's  hands 
in  his. 

''  Charles,  my  dear  child,"  he  said,  "  you  took  upon  you 
in  the  sight  of  heaven  a  sacred  duty  which  you  must  now 
fulfil.  If  there  is  in  this  world  a  promise  that  men  should 
keep  inviolably  it  is  that  made,  as  you  made  yours,  to  a 
dying  man.  I  told  you  I  would  give  you  the  means  of 
fulfilling  it.  I  now  keep  my  word.  You  still  have,  of 
course,  the  count's  fatigue  cap  ?  " 

Charles  opened  two  buttons  of  his  coat  and  showed  the 
cap  to  the  general. 

"Good.  I  shall  send  you  with  Falou  to  Besançon;  you 
will  go  with  him  to  the  village  of  Boussieres,  and  give  the 
burgomaster  the  gratuity  intended  for  Falou's  mother. 
Now,  as  I  don't  wish  that  the  money  should  be  thought 
to  come  from  some  pillage  or  marauding  expedition,  which 
would  certainly  be  the  case  if  Falou  took  it  himself  to  his 
mother,  I  wish  the  burgomaster  to  give  it  ;  and  I  also 
send  him  a  letter  for  the  chief  men  of  the  village,  certifying 
to  the  courage  of  the  new  sergeant.  I  give  you  and  Falou 
eight  days'  furlough,  counting  from  the  day  you  reach 
Besançon,  — you  must  want  to  show  off  your  new  uniform.  " 

"  Won't  you  give  me  something  for  my  father,  general  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  letter  just  before  you  start." 

At  that  moment  Leblanc  announced  that  the  general 
was  served. 


ABATTUCCI   AND    CHAKLES   FULFIL   THEIK  MISSIONS.     249 

As  Picliegru  entered  the  dining-room  he  cast  an  uneasy 
look  at  the  table  :  all  the  usual  places  were  set,  and  some 
added  ;  for  the  general  had  invited  Desaix  to  dine  with  him, 
and  Desaix  had  brought  one  of  his  friends  serving  in  Piche- 
gru's  army,  whom  he  had  made  his  aide-de-camp,  —  René 
Savary,  the  same  who  had  written  Faraud's  certificate  on  his 
paper  chevrons. 

The  dinner  was  as  gay  as  usual  ;  no  one  was  missing,  — 
the  two  or  three  wounded  escaping  with  scratches.  After 
dinner  they  mounted  their  horses,  and  Pichegru,  with  his 
whole  staff,  visited  the  outposts.  When  they  returned  to 
the  town  the  general  dismounted  and  told  Charles  to  do 
likewise.  Then,  giving  the  horses  to  the  chasseur  on  ser- 
vice, he  took  Charles  by  the  arm  into  the  shopinng  street 
of  Landau. 

"  Charles,  my  lad,"  he  said,  "  among  the  other  official 
and  secret  missions  with  which  you  are  charged,  I  have  a 
private  little  commission  of  my  own  I  want  you  to  do  for 
me  ;  will  you  ?  " 

"  With  delight,  general,"  said  the  boy,  hanging  on  to 
Pichegru's  arm.     "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  yet.  There  's  a  good  little  friend  of  mine 
in  Besançon,  named  Eose  ;  she  lives  in  the  rue  du  Colom- 
bier, No.  7." 

"  I  know  her,"  said  Charles  ;  "  she  is  the  dressmaker  at 
our  house,  —  a  good  girl,  about  thirty,  limps  a  little." 

"  Yes,  just  so,"  said  Pichegru,  smiling.  "  She  sent  me 
the  other  day  six  beautiful  linen  shirts  she  had  made  for 
me  ;  and  I  would  like  to  send  her  something  in  return." 

"That 's  a  good  idea,  general." 

"  But  what  shall  it  be  ?  I  can't  think  of  anything  that 
would  please  her." 

"  Why,  general  !  take  the  advice  the  weather  gives  you  : 
buy  her  a  fine  umbrella,  and  we  can  use  it  to  get  back 
with.  I  '11  tell  her  you  used  it,  and  that  will  make  it  more 
precious." 

"  That 's  a  good  idea  ;  and  it  will  be  very  useful  to  her 


250  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

when  she  does  her  errands.  Poor  Kose  !  she  has  no 
carriage  for  her  comfort.  Here 's  a  place  ;  let  us  go 
in  here." 

They  happened  to  be  passing  an  umbrella  shop.  Piche- 
gru  opened  and  shut  a  dozen  or  more,  and  finally  selected 
a  magnificent  umbrella  of  sky-blue  silk.  For  it  he  paid 
thirty-eight  francs  in  assignats  at  par.  This  was  the 
present  that  the  first  general  in  France  sent  to  his  love. 
The  reader  will  understand  that  I  should  not  have  related 
this  circumstance  unless  it  were  strictly  historical. 

That  evening  Pichegru  devoted  to  his  correspondence, 
advising  Charles,  who  was  to  start  the  next  day  at  day- 
break, to  go  to  bed  and  have  a  good  sleep.  The  boy  was 
at  an  age  when  sleep  is  truly  the  river  of  rest,  from 
which  childhood  draws  not  only  strength  for  the  coming 
day,  but  forgetfulness  of  the  past  and  indifference  for  the 
chances  of  the  morrow. 

That  night  a  curious  little  circumstance  happened,  which 
I  shall  relate,  the  particulars  having  been  told  me  by  the 
same  little  Charles,  then  a  man  of  forty-five,  and  (accord- 
ing to  his  wishes  expressed  in  Strasbourg  to  Eugène)  a 
learned  writer,  passing  his  days  in  a  vast  library. 

Charles,  in  obedience  to  Saint-Just's  decree,  had  thrown 
himself  on  his  bed  fully  dressed.  He  wore,  like  the  officers 
at  headquarters,  a  black  cravat  very  tightly  fastened  round 
his  neck.  This  was  Pichegru's  own  particular  fashion,  and 
the  whole  staff  had  adopted  it,  not  only  to  do  as  the  gen- 
eral did,  but  also  to  protest  against  the  voluminous  cravats 
introduced  by  Saint-Just.  Charles,  wishing  still  further 
to  imitate  his  general,  used  to  tie  the  cravat  in  a  tight 
little  knot  on  the  right  side, — a  fashion  he  always 
retained,  and  which  I  saw  him  use  up  to  the  time  of  his 
death  in  1844. 

Half  an  hour  later  Pichegru,  who  was  writing,  heard 
Charles  moan.  Thinking  the  boy  had  the  nightmare  he 
paid  no  attention  to  him.  But  after  a  while,  as  the  moans 
became  distressing  and  finally  turned  into  a  choking  sound, 


ABATTUCCI    AND    CHARLES    FULFIL    THEIR   MISSIONS.      251 

Fichegru  went  to  him  and  found  him  purple  in  the  face. 
Slipping  his  hand  under  the  boy's  head  he  raised  it,  and 
loosened  the  knot  of  the  cravat  which  was  strangling  him. 
The  lad  roused  up  and  recognized  Fichegru  leaning  over 
him. 

"  Ah  !  is  it  you,  general  ?  '•  he  said  ;  "  do  you  want  me  ?  " 
"No,"  said  the  general,  laughing;  "it  is  you,  on  the 
contrary,  who  want  me.  You  moaned,  and  I  came  to. you 
and  saw  at  once  what  was  the  matter.  If  you  will  wear, 
like  the  rest  of  us,  a  tight  cravat,  you  must  be  careful  to 
loosen  it  before  you  go  to  sleep.  I  '11  explain  to  you  later  how 
neglect  of  that  precaution  may  be  followed  by  apoplexy 
and  sudden  death.     It  is  one  method  of  suicide." 

We  shall  see,  later,  how  it  was  employed  by  Fichegru. 

The  next  day  Abattucci  started  for  Faris  ;  Faraud  and 
his  two  companions  for  Chateauroux;  and  Charles  and 
Falou  for  Besançon.  Fifteen  days  later  Faraud  reported 
that  the  distribution  had  been  made  throughout  the  depart- 
ment of  the  Indre.  But  before  this,  the  general  had 
received  a  letter  from  Abattucci  telling  him  how,  to  the 
accompaniment  of  shouts  of  "  Vive  la  République"  from 
the  members  of  the  Convention  and  all  spectators  present, 
the  five  flags  had  been  presented  to  the  president,  who  had 
publicly  confirmed  his,  Abattuoci's,  promotion. 

Still  earlier,  on  the  sixth  day  after  Charles'  departure, 
Fichegru  received  the  following  epistle,  dated  14th  Nivôse 
(January  3). 

My  dear  General, — The  new  calendar  made  me  forget  one 
thing  ;  that  is,  that  if  I  reached  Besançon  on  the  31st  of  December,  I 
should  be  just  in  time  to  wish  my  family  a  happy  new  year. 

You  did  not  forget  it  ;  and  my  father  feels  very  grateful  for  this 
kindness  on  your  part,  and  desires  me  to  thank  your  heartily. 

On  the  1st  of  January  (old  style),  all  the  new-year  wishes  wished, 
and  the  whole  family  kissed,  we  started,  Falou  and  1,  for  Boussière. 
There,  according  to  your  directions,  we  stopped  the  carriage  before 
the  door  of  the  burgomaster,  to  whom  I  gave  your  letter.     He  sent 


252  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

at  once  for  the  drummer  of  the  village,  and  told  him  to  announce  the 
great  news  to  the  inhabitants  of  Boussiere,  and  made  him  read  your 
letter  three  times  over  so  that  he  should  make  no  mistake  in  repeat- 
ing it.  Then  he  despatched  him  with  orders  to  make  the  proclama- 
tion first  in  front  of  Mère  Falou's  cottage.  This  the  drummer  did  ; 
and  out  came  the  old  woman  at  the  roll  of  the  drum,  leaning  on  her 
stick.     Falou  and  I  stood  close  by  her. 

After  the  roll  stopped  the  proclamation  began.  When  the  poor 
old  woman  heard  her  son's  name,  she  did  n"t  comprehend  at  first,  and 
began  to  cry,  calling  out  :  — 

"Is  he  dead  ?  is  he  dead  ?  " 

Falou  ripped  out  an  oath  fit  to  crack  the  skies,  declaring  that  her 
son  was  living  ;  this  made  her  turn  round  and  as  she  could  see 
just  enough  to  know  a  uniform  she  called  out  :  — 

"  No,  no  !  he  's  here,  he  's  here  !  " 

And  with  that  she  tumbled  into  her  son's  arms,  and  he  kissed  her 
like  everything,  and  all  the  village  applauded.  Then,  as  the  pro- 
clamation had  been  interrupted  by  this  filial  performance,  the 
drummer  began  it  all  over  again.  At  the  last  words  the  burgomaster, 
who  wanted  to  make  a  fine  scene  of  the  affair,  appeared  with  a  laurel 
crown  in  one  hand  and  the  purse  in  the  other.  He  laid  the  laurel? 
on  Falou's  head,  and  the  purse  in  his  mother's  hands.  I  could  not 
stay  till  the  end,  but  I  am  told  there  was  a  great  fête  that  night  in  the 
village,  with  illuminations  and  a  ball  and  fire-barrels  and  rockets,  and 
that  Falou,  in  the  midst  of  his  fellow-citizens,  stalked  about  till  two  in 
the  morning,  with  his  laurel  crown  upon  his  head,  like  Caesar  himself. 

As  for  me,  my  general,  I  went  back  to  Besançon  to  do  the  sad  duty 
you  know  of,  about  which  I  will  tell  you  when  I  get  back. 

Up  to  that  moment  T  had  had  no  time  to  attend  to  your  commission. 
But  now  I  ran  to  the  rue  du  Colombier  and  up  to  the  third  story  of 
No.  7.  Rose  knew  and  welcomed  me  as  her  little  friend  ;  but  when 
she  knew  I  was  sent  by  her  great  friend  —  oh  !  then,  general,  I  must 
tell  you,  she  took  me  in  her  arms  and  kissed  me,  crying  :  — 

"  Oh  !  did  he  really  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mademoiselle  Rose." 

"  What,  all  out  of  his  own  head  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes,  I  tell  you." 

"  And  he  chose  me  that  beautiful  umbrella?" 

"Yes,  he  chose  it." 

"  And  he  used  it  over  his  own  head  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  both  used  it,  but  he  carried  it." 


ABATTUCCI    AND   CHAKLES   FULFIL   THEIR   MISSIONS.     253 

And  then,  without  saying  another  word,  she  looked  at  the  handle 
and  kissed  it  and  began  to  cry.  1  could  n't  comfort  her,  you  see,  for 
I  was  crying,  too  ;  besides,  they  were  tears  of  joy,  and  it  would  have 
hurt  her  if  I  had  said,  "  Stop."  So  I  told  her  how  much  you  liked  the 
shirts,  and  that  you  would  not  wear  any  others.  And  then  you 
should  just  have  heard  us  talk  about  you  !  She  is  going  to  write  and 
thank  you,  but  she  has  given  me  lots  of  messages  to  carry  back. 

My  father,  too,  sends  you  a  great  many.  I  think  }ou  must  have 
told  him  a  lot  of  very  big  fibs  about  his  son,  for  while  he  read  your 
letter  he  kept  looking  at  me  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  and  I  saw 
tears  on  his  eyelashes.  He  is  going  to  write  to  you  himself,  like 
Mademoiselle  Rose. 

I  think  1  have  taken  up  more  of  your  time  about  myself  than  I  am 
worth  ;  but  it  was  you  who  made  me  a  person  of  importance  by 
trusting  me  with  three  commissions  ;  so  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the 
chatter  of 

Your  little  friend, 

Charles  Nodier. 


A  bird's-eye  view.  255 


THE    THIRTEENTH    VENDÉMIAIRE. 


A  bird's-eye  view. 

Nearly  two  years  have  elapsed  since  the  events  recorded 
in  the  preceding  chapters.  That  our  readers  may  clearly 
understand  those  that  are  to  follow,  we  must  take  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  the  two  terrible,  but  inevitable  years  1794 
and  1795. 

As  Vergniaud  had  prophesied,  and  as  Pichegru  had 
repeated  after  him,  the  Revolution  devoured  her  own 
children.     Let  us  see  this  terrible  mother  at  her  work. 

On  the  5th  of  April,  1795,  the  Cordeliers  were  executed. 
Danton,  Camille  Desmoulins,  Bazire,  Chabot,  Lacroix, 
Hérault  de  Sechelles,  and  the  poor  poet-martyr  Fabre 
d'Eglantine,  author  of  one  of  our  most  popular  songs  (i? 
jylcut,  il  pleut,  bergère)  died  together  on  the  same  scaffold,  tc 
which  Robespierre,  Saint-Just,  Merlin  of  Douai,  Couthon, 
Collot-d'Herbois,  Fouché  of  Nantes,  and  Vadier  drove  them. 

Then  came  the  turn  of  the  Jacobins.  Vadier,  Tallien, 
Billaut,  Frèron  accused  Robespierre  of  having  usurped  the 
dictatorship  ;  and  Robespierre,  his  jaw  broken  by  a  pistol- 
shot,  Saint-Just,  his  head  high,  Couthon  with  both  legs 
crushed,  Lebas,  and  all  their  friends  to  the  number  of 
twenty-two,  were  executed  on  the  morrow  of  that  tumul- 
tuous day  which  bears  historically  the  fatal  date  of  the 
9th  Thermidor. 

On  the  10th  Thermidor  the  Revolution  still  lived  ;  for 
the  Revolution  is  immortal,  it  is  not  for  any  party  rising 


256  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

or  falling  to  kill  it;  the  Eevolution  was  living,  but  the 
Republic  was  dead.  With  Robespierre  and  Saint-Just,  the 
Republic  was  beheaded.  The  night  of  their  execution  boys 
were  shouting  at  the  doors  of  the  theatres  :  "  A  carriage  ! 
who  wants  a  carriage  ?  Will  you  have  a  carriage,  bourgeois?  " 
The  next  day  and  the  day  after  eighty-two  Jacobins  fol- 
lowed Robespierre,  Saint-Just,  and  their  friends  on  the 
place  de  la  Révolution. 

Pichegru  heard  of  the  bloody  reaction  ;  he  was  then  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Army  of  the  North.  He  believed 
that  the  hour  for  blood  had  passed,  and  that  the  hour  for 
filth  was  coming  with  the  Vadiers,  the  Talliens,  the  Billauts 
and  the  Frerons.  He  made  a  signal  to  Mulheim,  and 
Fauche-Borel  came  to  him. 

Pichegru  saw  true,  —  the  ascending  period  of  the  Revo- 
lution had  passed  ;  it  had  reached  the  reactionary  or 
descending  period.  Blood  still  flowed,  but  it  was  the 
blood  of  reprisals. 

On  the  17th  of  May,  1795,  a  decree  was  issued  closing  for- 
ever the  Hall  of  the  Jacobins,  the  cradle  of  the  Revolution, 
the  mainstay  of  the  Republic.  Fouquier-Tinville,  the  public 
prosecutor,  the  colleague  of  the  guillotine,  was  not  more 
guilty  than  the  machine  itself,  for  he  simply  obeyed  the 
orders  of  the  Revolutionary  tribunal,  as  the  guillotine  obeyed 
his.  Fouquier-Tinville  now  fell  under  that  knife,  in  company 
with  fifteen  judges  or  jurymen  of  the  Revolution.  In  order 
that  this  reaction  might  be  shown  to  be  complete,  the  execu- 
tion took  place  on  the  place  de  Grève.  The  ingenious 
invention  of  Doctor  Guillotin  returned  to  its  original 
locality,  and  the  gallows  disappeared  ;  equality  in  death 
was  well  established. 

On  the  1st  Prairial  Paris  became  aware  that  it  was  dying 
of  hunger.  Famine  drove  the  faubourgs  to  the  Con- 
vention. Haggard,  ragged,  famished,  they  invaded  the 
chamber  ;  deputy  Feraud  was  killed  in  trying  to  protect  the 
president,  Boissy  d'Anglas.  Seeing  the  tumult  that  this 
event  caused  in  the  assembly,  Boissy  d'Anglas  put  on  his 


A  bikd's-eye  view.  257 

hat.  They  showed  him  Feraud's  head  on  a  pike.  He 
respectfully  uncovered  his  own  head,  bowed,  and  again 
covered  himself.  But  during  this  scene  Boissy  d'Anglas, 
till  then  a  semi-revolutionist,  became  half  a  royalist. 

On  the  16th  of  the  same  month  Louis-Charles  of  France, 
Due  de  Normandie,  pretender  to  the  throne  under  the 
name  of  Louis  XVIL, —  he  of  whom  the  Due  d'Orléans  had 
said  during  a  supper,  "  The  son  of  Coigny  shall  never  be 
my  king,  "  —  died  of  scrofula  in  the  Temple,  aged  ten  years, 
tAvo  months,  and  twelve  days.  But  even  in  the  days  of 
the  Eepublic  the  old  axiom  of  the  French  monarchy 
survived  :  "  The  King  is  dead,  long  live  the  King  !  " 
Louis,  Comte  de  Provence,  immediately,  on  his  own 
authority,  proclaimed  himself  king  of  France  and  Navarre, 
under  the  name  of  Louis  XVIII. 

Then  came  the  terrible  day  of  Quiberon,  during  which, 
as  Pitt  said,  '^  English  blood  did  not  flow,"  but,  as  Sheridan 
said,  "  England's  honor  streamed  from  every  pore." 

During  this  time  the  victories  of  Hoche  and  Pichegru 
had  borne  fruits.  As  a  I'esult  of  the  retaking  of  the  lines 
of  Weissembourg,  at  which  our  readers  were  present,  and 
at  the  sight  of  the  tricolor  banner  carried  across  the  fron- 
tier in  the  hands  of  Saint-Just,  and  floating  victoriously 
in  Bohemia,  Frederick  William,  who  was  the  first  to  invade 
our  borders,  recognized  the  French  Eepublic  and  made 
peace  with  it.  Not  having  taken  any  territory  from  each 
other,  neither  power  had  anything  to  restore.  Only,  eighty 
thousand  Prussians  slept  on  the  plains  of  Champagne  and 
Alsace,  and  the  bitter  quarrel  began  which  will  not  end 
either  at  Jena  or  at  Leipzig. 

Meantime  the  army  of  the  Eastern-Pyrenees  had  invaded 
Biscay,  Vittorio,  and  Bilboa.  Already  masters  of  that  part 
of  the  frontier  of  Spain  which  is  the  most  difficult  of 
access,  the  French,  who  were  approaching  Pampeluna,  were 
likely  to  seize  the  capital  of  Navarre  and  open  an  easy 
way  for  the  invasion  of  the  two  Castiles  and  Arragon.  The 
King  of  Spain  proposed  a  peace.     This   was   the  second 

VOL.    I. — 17 


258"  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

crowned  head  who  recognized  the  Eepublic,  and  in  recog- 
nizing it  he  accepted  the  fate  of  his  relations  Louis  XVI. 
and  Marie  Antoinette. 

Peace  was  signed.  Before  the  necessities  of  war,  family 
considerations  vanished.  France  abandoned  her  conquests 
beyond  the  Pyrenees,  and  Spain  ceded  to  France  that  part 
of  the  island  of  Saint-Domingo  which  was  Spanish.  But,  as 
we  have  said,  the  question  of  peace  with  Spain  was  not  to  be 
regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  material  advantages. 
No,  the  question  was  altogether  a  moral  one.  The  reader 
has,  no  doubt,  already  understood  it.  The  defection  of 
Charles  IV.  to  the  cause  of  kingship  was  very  different  in 
its  importance  from  that  of  Frederick  William.  Frederick 
William  was  held  by  no  tie  to  the  Bourbons  ;  whereas 
Charles  IV.,  in  signing  the  peace  of  August  4th  with  the 
Convention,  ratified  all  that  the  Convention  had  decreed. 

As  for  the  Army  of  the  Xorth,  operating  against  the 
Austrians,  it  took  Ypres  and  Charleroi,  won  the  battle  of 
Fleurus,  reconquered  Landrecies,  occupied  ISTamur  and  Treves, 
recovered  Valenciennes,  carried  the  fort  of  Crève-Cœur, 
also  Ulrich,  Gorcomm,  Amsterdam,  Dordrecht,  Rotterdam, 
and  the  Hague.  Finally,  and  this  was  an  unheard-of  thing, 
which  was  so  far  lacking  to  the  picturesque  annals  of 
French  warfare,  the  Dutch  line-of -battle  ships,  caught  in 
the  ice,  were  captured  by  a  squadron  of  huzzars  on  horse- 
back. This  extraordinary  feat  of  arms,  which  seemed  like 
a  caprice  of  Providence  in  our  favor,  led  to  the  capitulation 
of  Zealand. 


A   GLANCE  AT  PARIS:  THE  INCROYABLE.     259 


II. 

JL    GLANCE    AT   PARIS  :    THE   INCROYABLE. 

All  these  successes  of  our  arms  had  echoed  to  Paris. 
Paris,  that  near-sighted  city,  which  cannot  see  beyond  a 
limited  horizon  except  when  some  great  national  impulse 
drives  her  outside  of  her  material  interests,  —  Paris,  weary 
of  bloodshed,  was  rushing  eagerly  into  pleasures,  and 
asked  no  better  than  to  turn  its  eyes  for  amusement  to  the 
theatre  of  war  and  enjoy  the  glorious  drama  which  France 
was  playing  there. 

Most  of  the  actors  and  actresses  of  the  Comédie-Française 
and  the  Théâtre  Feydeau,  imprisoned  as  royalists,  were 
released  after  the  9th  Thermidor.  Larive,  Saint-Prix, 
Mole,  Dazincourt,  Mademoiselle  Contât,  Mademoiselle  Devi- 
enne, Saint-Phar,  and  Elleviou  were  received  back  with 
vehement  applause  at  the  Française  and  the  Feydeau. 
People  rushed  to  the  theatres,  where  they  began  to  listen 
coldly  to  the  Marseillaise  and  to  call  for  the  "  Réveil  du 
Peuple."  Presently,  the  jeunesse  dorée  of  Fréron  made  its 
appearance. 

We  say  every  day  those  words,  "Fréron"  and  "jeunesse 
dorée,"  without  forming  any  clear  idea  to  ourselves  as  to 
what  the  jeunesse  dorée  of  Fréron  was.  Let  us  here  tell 
what  it  was. 

There  were  two  Frerons  in  France  :  one,  an  honest 
man,  a  stern  and  upright  critic,  mistaken  at  times,  but, 
at  any  rate,  mistaken  in  good  faith  ;  this  was  Fréron  the 
father,  Elie-Catherine  Fréron.  The  other,  who  knew 
neither  faith  nor  law,  whose  only  religion  was  hatred, 
his  only  motive  vengeance,  his  only  God  self-interest,  was 
Fréron  the  son,  Louis-Stanislas  Fréron. 


260  THE    riKST   REPUBLIC. 

The  father  witnessed  the  whole  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
liury.  Averse  to  innovations  in  art  he  attacked  all  literary 
innovations  in  the  name  of  Racine  and  Boileau.  Averse 
CO  political  innovations,  he  attacked  them  in  the  name  of 
religion  and  royalty.  He  recoiled  before  none  of  the 
colossi  of  modern  philosophism.^ 

He  attacked  Diderot,  who  had  come  in  his  wooden  shoes 
and  jacket  from  the  little  town  of  Langres,  half  abbé,  half 
philosopher.  He  attacked  Jean-Jacques,  who  had  come 
from  Geneva  without  clothes  or  money.  He  attacked 
Alerabert,  a  waif  found  on  the  steps  of  a  church,  and  long 
called  Jean  Lerond,  the  name  of  the  church  on  the  steps  of 
which  he  was  found.  He  attacked  the  great  seigneurs 
called  Montesquieu  and  Monsieur  de  Buffon.  Finally, 
surviving  the  anger  of  Voltaire  (who  had  tried  to  stab  him 
with  epigrams  and  kill  him  in  his  satire  of  "  The  Poor 
Devil,"  and  annihilate  him  in  his  comedy  of  '•  The  Scotch- 
woman"), he  stood  erect  enough  to  call  out  to  the  great 
Voltaire  on  the  day  of  his  triumph  :  "  Remember  that  you 
are  mortal  !  " 

He  died  before  his  two  great  antagonists,  Voltaire  and 
Rousseau,  in  1776,  of  an  attack  of  gout,  which  went  to  his 
head,  owing  to  the  suppression  of  his  paper,  "  The  Literary 
Year."  It  was  the  weapon  of  this  fighter,  the  club  of  this 
Hercules  ;  that  being  broken,  he  did  not  care  to  live. 

The  son,  who  had  King  Stanislas  for  his  godfather  and 
Robespierre  for  a  schoolmate,  drank  the  dregs  of  the 
bitterness  poured  by  public  opinion  into  his  father's  cup. 
All  the  accumulated  insults  which  for  thirty  years  had 
lain  upon  the  head  of  the  elder  Freron  fell,  like  an  ava- 
lanche of  shame,  upon  that  of  the  son  ;  and  as  the  son's 
heart  was  devoid  of  belief,  incapable  of  fidelity,  he  could 
not  bear  it.  That  which  had  made  the  father  invincible 
was  his  unshaken  belief  in  duty   nobly   performed.     The 

Ï  Philosophism  may  not  be  a  good  word  academically  speaking,  but  it 
gives  our  idea  much  better  than  the  word  philosophy. 


A   GLANCE   AT   PARIS  :    THE   INCKOYABLE.  261 

younger  Freron,  not  having  that  counterpoise  to  the  con- 
tempt which  overwhelmed  him,  became  ferocious  ;  unjustly 
treated  (for  he  was  not  responsible  for  his  father's  acts), 
he  longed  to  make  himself  hated  for  real  cause.  The 
laurels  which  Marat  gathered  by  publishing  the  "  Ami  du 
Peuple  "  broke  Frèron's  rest.  He  founded  the  "  Orator  of 
the  People  "  in  emulation  of  it. 

Timid  by  nature,  Frévon  the  younger  could  not  stop  in 
his  cruelties,  fearing  to  do  so.  Sent  to  Marseilles  he  became 
its  terror.  Carlier  drowned  at  Nantes  ;  Collot-d'Herbois 
shot  at  Lyon  ;  Freron  did  better  at  Toulon,  —  he  fired  can- 
nister.  One  day,  when  he  suspected,  after  a  discharge  of 
artillery,  that  some  of  the  condemned  had  fallen  intention- 
ally at  the  same  time  as  those  who  had  actually  been  shot, 
and  were  counterfeiting  death,  he  called  out  :  — 

"  Let  those  who  are  not  dead  rise  ;  the  nation  pardons 
them." 

The  poor  wretches  who  were  not  wounded  believed  him 
and  rose. 

"  Fire  !  "  cried  Freron. 

This  time  the  work  was  thoroughly  done  ;  no  one  could 
rise  again.^ 

By  the  time  he  returned  to  Paris,  Paris  had  made  a  step 
towards  clemency  ;  the  friend  of  Robespierre  now  became 
his  enemy  ;  the  Jacobin  retreated  till  he  turned  into  a 
Cordelier.  He  scented  the  9th  Thermidor.  He  made  him- 
self Thermidorian  with  Tallien  and  Barras,  denounced 
Fouquier-Tinville,  sowed,  like  Cadmus,  the  teeth  of   that 


^  We  are  apt  to  put  aside  these  atrocities  as  belonging  to  a  past  age. 
Few  of  us  consider  the  fact  that  in  1871  deeds  quite  as  horrible  were  com- 
mitted in  Paris.  There  was  nothing  in  the  first  Revolution  more  infernal 
than  the  massacres  in  the  Rue  Haxo;  and  Théophile  Ferré  was  an  almost 
exact  reproduction  of  Freron.  Many  of  tlie  men  who  committed  these 
atrocities  emigrated  to  the  United  States,  where  they  founded  clubs  and 
secret  associations.  The  reader  is  referred  to  M.  Maxime  Ducamp's 
"  Paris  under  the  Commune  ;  "  which  is  accepted  as  the  most  authentic 
and  dispassionate  history  of  that  period.  —  Tr. 


262  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

dragon  that  was  named  the  Revolution,  and  was  soon  after 
seen,  amid  the  blood  of  the  old  régime  and  the  filth  of  the 
new,  to  be  the  leader  of  the  youth  of  Paris,  that  jeunesse 
dorée  which  took  his  name. 

This  jeunesse  dorée  —  in  opposition  to  the  sans-culottes 
who  wore  short  hair,  round  jackets,  trousers,  and  Phry- 
gian caps  —  appeared  with  either  long  queues,  —  a  fashion 
revived  from  the  time  of  Louis  XIII.  and  called  "  cadenette  " 
(from  the  name  of  its  inventor  Cadenet,  a  scion  of  the  house 
of  Luynes),  —  or  else  with  hair  falling  loose  on  the  shoulders 
and  beside  the  face  in  locks  then  called  ''  dog's-ears."  They 
revived  the  fashion  of  powder  and  used  it  plentifully.  In 
the  morning  they  wore  very  short  surtout  coats,  with  vel- 
vet breeches,  black  or  green.  When  in  full  dress  the 
surtout  was  replaced  by  a  light-colored  evening  coat 
cut  square  in  front  and  buttoned  across  the  pit  of  the 
stomach,  while  the  tails  hung  down  behind  to  the  calves  of 
the  legs.  The  muslin  cravat  was  high,  with  enormous  ends, 
and  stiffly  starched.  The  waistcoat  was  white,  made  of  piqué 
or  dimity,  with  broad  lapels  and  rufflings  ;  two  watch- 
chains  dangled  on  satin  breeches  that  were  either  pearl-gray 
or  apple-green  ;  these  breeches  came  to  the  middle  of  the 
calf  of  the  leg,  where  they  were  buttoned  with  three  buttons, 
from  which  hung  a  mass  of  ribbons.  Silk  stockings,  striped 
crossways  with  yellow,  red,  or  blue,  and  pumps,  —  considered 
the  more  elegant  the  thinner,  lower,  and  more  flaring  they 
were,  —  an  opera  hat  under  the  arm,  and  a  monstrous  stick, 
or  club,  with  a  huge  handle,  completed  the  costume  of  an 
incoyable. 

Now,  why  did  the  satirists  who  fasten  upon  all  novelty 
call  the  individuals  who  composed  the  gilded  youth  of 
Paris  the  incoyables  ?     We  propose  to  tell  you. 

It  did  not  suffice  to  change  all  garments,  so  as  not  to  be 
mistaken  for  revolutionists  ;  it  was  necessary  to  change  the 
language.  Discarding  the  vulgar  dialect  of  1793  and  the 
democratic  "  thou,"  a  honied  tone  and  idiom  were  invented  ; 
consequently,  instead  of  rolling  their  r's,  like  the  pupils  of 


A  GLANCE  AT  PARIS  :  THE  INCROYABLE.     263 

the  modern  Conservatory,  they  suppressed  them  altogether, 
and  the  eighteenth  letter  of  the  alphabet  came  very  near 
being  lost  forever  in  this  philological  cataclysm  —  like 
the  dative  of  the  Greeks.  They  boned  the  language  to 
take  out  its  vigor  and  instead  of  giving  themselves  their 
parroles  d'honneurr  —  their  worrd  of  honorr  —  with  a  due 
rest  on  the  consonant,  they  thought  it  best  to  give  their 
jpaole  d'honneu. 

They  had,  according  to  circumstances,  a  gande  paole 
d'honneu  or  a  petite  paole  dhonneu,  but  whichever  kind  of 
word  of  honor  they  used  to  enforce  some  statement  that 
was  difficult  or  impossible  to  believe,  the  listener,  too  polite 
to  contradict  the  person  he  was  talking  with,  contented 
himself  by  saying  :  — 

"  It  is  incoyable  "  [inconceivable]. 

Then  the  other  would  reply  :  — 

"  On  my  solemn  word  of  honor." 

After  that,  there  was  no  further  doubt. 

Hence  the  designation  "  Incroyable,"  changed  into  "  Incoy- 
able," bestowed  upon  the  jeunesse  dorée,  the  gilded  youth, 
of  France. 


264  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


III. 

THE    MERVEILLEUSE. 

The  incoyable,  that  hybrid  of  the  reaction,  had  his  female, 
born  like  himself  and  of  his  epoch.  They  called  her  the 
Ttieiveilleuse. 

She  borrowed  her  garments,  not  like  the  incoyable 
from  modern  fashions,  but  from  the  Greek  and  Corinthian 
draperies  of  the  Phrynes  and  Aspasias.  Tunic,  mantle, 
peplum,  all  were  cut  to  an  antique  pattern.  The  more  a 
woman  managed  to  make  herself  naked,  the  more  elegant 
she  was.  The  true  meiveilleuse  —  or  merveilleuse  [marvel- 
lous] for  that  of  course  was  the  derivation  of  the  word  — 
went  bare-armed  and  bare-legged.  Tlie  tunic,  made  like 
that  of  the  Hunting  Diana,  was  often  slashed  open  at  the 
side,  with  no  other  fastening  than  a  cameo  clasp  holding 
together  the  slashed  sides  just  above  the  knee. 

But  that  was  nothing.  The  ladies  made  the  excuse  of 
summer  heat  to  appear  at  balls  and  on  the  public  prome- 
nades in  filmy  garments  less  concealing  than  the  cloud  that 
enveloped  Venus  when  she  led  her  son  to  Dido.  Eneas 
did  not  recognize  his  mother  until  she  came  out  of  her 
cloud.  Incessu  patuit  deo,  says  Virgil.  But  these  ladies 
did  not  need  to  step  oiit  of  their  cloud  to  be  seen  ;  they 
were  perfectly  visible  through  it,  and  whoever  took  them 
for  goddesses  must  have  been  at  some  pains  to  do  so.  This 
diaphanous  airiness  —  Juvenal  speaks  of  it  —  became 
altogether  the  fashion. 

Besides  the  private  parties  there  were  public  balls. 
Society  met  at  the  Lycée-Bal,  and  the  Hôtel  Thélusson, 
to  mingle,  while  dancing,  their  tears  and  woes  and  plans 
of  vengeance.  These  assemblies  were  called  "  the  balls  of  the 
Victims."     In  order  to  be  admitted  it  was  necessary  to  have 


THE    MERVEILLEUSE.  265 

had  a  relation  of  some  kind  guillotined  by  Robespierre, 
drowned  by  Carlier,  shot  by  Collot  d'Herbois,  or  blown  to 
bits  by  Freron. 

Horace  Vernet,  who  was  forced  at  that  time  to  draw 
costumes  for  a  living,  has  left  a  portfolio  of  the  fashions  of 
the  period,  drawn  from  life  with  that  charming  gift  he 
received  from  heaven.  Nothing  is  more  amusing  than  his 
collection  of  grotesque  figures  ;  and  one  cannot  help  asking 
one's  self  how  it  was  possible  for  an  incoy able  a,nà.  meiveilleuse 
to  meet  and  speak  without  laughing  in  each  other's  faces. 

Let  us  say  at  once,  however,  that  some  of  the  costumes 
adopted  by  the  dandies  who  frequented  the  balls  of  the 
Victims  were  of  a  terrifying  character.  Old  General  Pire 
has  told  me  a  score  of  times  that  he  met  at  these  balls 
several  incoyahles  wearing  waistcoats  and  tight  trousers 
made  of  human  skin.  Those  who  had  only  some  distant 
relation  to  mourn,  like  an  uncle  or  an  aunt,  contented  them- 
selves with  dipping  the  end  of  their  little  finger  in  a  blood- 
red  liquid  ;  for  which  purpose  they  cut  off  the  little  finger  of 
their  glove  and,  in  order  to  renovate  the  color  from  time  to 
time,  they  carried  their  pot  of  blood  to  the  ball,  as  the 
women  carried  their  rouge-pots. 

While  dancing  they  conspired  against  the  Republic; 
which  was  all  the  easier,  because  the  Convention,  though 
possessing  a  national  police,  had  no  Parisian  police.  Strange 
fact  !  public  murder  had  put  an  end  to  private  murder,  and 
there  were  never,  perhaps,  so  few  crimes  committed  in 
France  as  during  the  years  '93,  '94,  and  '95  ;  passions  had 
other  means  of  exercise. 

But  the  time  was  approaching  when  the  Convention,  that 
terrible  Convention  which,  on  the  21st  of  September,  1792, 
the  day  it  entered  on  its  functions,  abolished  royalty  to  the 
sound  of  the  cannon  of  Valmy  and  established  the  Republic, 
the  time,  we  say,  was  approaching  when  the  Convention  was 
to  lay  down  its  powers.  It  had  been  a  cruel  parent.  It 
devoured  the  Girondins,  the  Cordeliers,  the  Jacobins, — 
the  most  eloquent,  energetic,  and  intelligent  of  its  children. 


266  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

And  yet,  withal,  it  was  a  faithful  son.  It  fought  with 
success  the  enemies  of  the  nation,  both  within  and  without. 
It  raised  fourteen  armies,  —  ill-fed,  it  is  true  ;  ill-clothed, 
it  is  true  ;  ill-shod,  it  is  true  ;  and  worse  paid.  What 
matter  ?  those  fourteen  armies  not  only  drove  the  enemy 
beyond  the  frontier,  but  they  took  the  duchy  of  Nice,  and 
Savoie,  made  a  conquering  march  into  Spain,  and  laid  a 
hand  on  Holland. 

It  created  the  "  Grand  Livre  ''  of  the  national  debt,  —  that 
is  to  say,  the  Funds, — the  Institute,  the  Ecole  Polytechnique, 
the  Ecole  Normale,  the  Museum  of  the  Louvre,  and  the 
Conservatory  of  Arts  and  Sciences. 

It  issued  eight  thousand  three  hundred  and  seventy 
decrees,  mostly  revolutionary. 

It  gave  to  men  and  things  a  stupendous  tone  and  char- 
acter; grandeur  was  gigantic,  courage  foolhardy,  stoicism 
impassible.  Never  was  there  cooler  disdain  for  the  execu- 
tioner, never  was  blood  shed  with  less  remorse. 

Does  any  one  desire  to  know  how  many  parties  there  were 
in  France  during  those  two  years,  that  is  to  say,  from  '93 
to  '95  ?  There  were  thirty-three.  Does  any  one  wish  to 
know  the  names  given  to  those  parties  ?  They  are  as 
follows  :  — 

Ministerials  ;  Partisans  of  civil  life  ;  Knights  of  the 
dagger  ;  Men  of  August  10th  ;  Septembriseurs  ;  Giron- 
dins ;  Brissotins  ;  Federalists  ;  Men  of  the  State  ;  Men 
of  May  31st  ;  Moderates  ;  Suspects  ;  Men  of  the  plain  ; 
Frogs  of  the  marsh  ;  Montagnards. 

The  above  are  for  1793  only.  The  following  are  for 
1794  and  1795  :  — 

Alarmists  ;  Pitiers  ;  Sleepers  ;  Enemies  of  Pitt  and 
Coburg  ;  Muscadins  ;  Hebertists  ;  Sans  Culottes  ;  Counter- 
Eevolutionaries  ;  Inhabitants  of  the  ridge  ;  Terrorists  ; 
Maratists  ;  Cut-throats  ;  Drinkers  of  blood  ;  Thermidori- 
ans  ;  Patriots  of  1789  ;  Companions  of  Jehu  ;  Chouans. 

Add  to  these  the  jeunesse  dorée  of  Fréron,  and  it  brings 
us  to  the  22d  of  August,  1795,  —  the  day  when  the  new  Con- 


THE   MERVEILLEUSE.  267 

stitution  (called  the  Constitution  of  the  year  III.)»  after  being 
discussed  article  by  article,  was  finally  adopted  by  the  Con- 
vention, At  this  time  the  louis  d'or  was  worth  twelve 
hundred  francs  in  assignats. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  André  Chénier,  brother  of 
Marie-Joseph  Chénier,  was  put  to  death.  He  was  executed 
on  the  25th  of  July,  1794,  that  is  to  say,  the  7th  Thermidor, 
two  days  before  Robespierre,  at  eight  in  the  morning.  His 
companions  in  the  cart  were  MM.  de  Montalembert,  de 
Créquy,  de  Montmorency,  de  Loiserolles,  —  that  glorious  old 
man  who  answered  the  call  of  the  executioner  in  place  of 
his  son,  and  went  joyfully  to  his  death  to  save  him,  — 
and  lastly,  Roucher,  the  author  of  "Les  Mois,"  who  did  not 
know  that  he  was  to  die  with  André  Chénier,  and  when  he 
saw  him  in  the  fatal  cart  gave  a  cry  of  pleasure  and  sat 
down  beside  him.  A  friend  of  Roucher  and  of  Chénier, 
who  had  the  courage  to  follow  the  cart  at  the  risk  of  his  own 
life  to  prolong  their  last  farewell,  heard  the  two  poets  talk- 
ing of  poetry  and  love  and  the  future  along  the  whole  wa}-. 
André  Chénier  showed  to  Roucher  his  last  poem,  which  he 
was  just  finishing  when  the  executioner  called  him.  It  was 
written  in  pencil  ;  and  after  Roucher  had  read  it  he  gave  it 
to  the  third  friend,  who  left  them  only  at  the  foot  of  the 
scaffold.  It  was  thus  that  these  lines  were  preserved,  and 
that  Henri  de  la  Touche,  to  whom  we  owe  the  only  edition 
of  André  Chénier's  poems  that  exists,  was  able  to  put  them 
in  his  volume. 

At  the  moment  when  Chénier  mounted  the  scaffold  he 
said,  touching  his  forehead  and  sighing  :  — 

"  And  yet  I  did  have  something  here  !  " 

"  No,"  said  the  friend  who  was  not  to  die  with  him,  "  it 
was  there  !  "  touching  his  heart. 

André  Chénier,  for  whom  we  have  wandered  from  our 
subject,  and  whose  memory  has  drawn  from  us  these  few 
words,  was  the  first  to  plant  the  banner  of  the  new  French 
poesy. 


268  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


IV. 


THE    SECTIONS. 

The  day  on  which  the  Convention  proclaimed  the  Con- 
stitution, called  that  of  the  year  III.,  every  one  cried  out  : 
"  The  Convention  has  signed  its  own  death-warrant.'" 

In  fact,  it  was  supposed  that  like  the  Constituent 
assembly  it  would,  with  ill-judged  abnegation,  interdict  its 
own  members  from  entering  the  Assembly  that  succeeded 
it.  It  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  Convention  under- 
stood very  well  that  the  last  breath  of  republicanism  was 
in  its  own  body.  In  a  people  so  restless  as  the  French,  who, 
in  a  moment  of  enthusiasm  had  overturned  a  monarchy 
of  eight  centuries,  the  Republic  could  not  in  three  years 
obtain  such  foothold  that  its  firm  establishment  might  be 
left  to  the  natural  course  of  events.  The  Revolution 
needed  to  be  watched  over  and  defended  by  those  who 
made  it  and  who  had  an  interest  in  perpetuating  it  ;  but 
who  were  they  ?  Who  could  they  be  but  the  Conventionals, 
they  who  had  abolished  the  feudal  constitution  on  the  14th 
of  July  and  the  4th  of  August,  1789  ;  who  had  overturned  the 
throne  on  the  10th  of  August,  1792  ;  who  had  cut  off  the 
King's  head  January  21,  1793;  and  from  that  day  till 
the  present  day  had  fought  all  Europe,  reduced  Prussia 
and  Spain  to  ask  for  peace,  and  driven  Austria  beyond  the 
frontiers  ? 

So  then,  strong  in  its  past,  the  Convention  decreed  on 
the  5th  Fructidor  (August  22)  that  the  new  Legislative 
body,  composed  of  two  councils,  the  Council  of  the  Five 
Himdred,  and  the  Council  of  the  Ancients,  the  first  charged 
with  the  proposal  of  the  laws,  the  second,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  in  number,  with  the  adoption  of  them,  should  be  two 


THE    SECTIONS.  269 

thirds  composed  of  the  members  of  the  Convention,  and 
that  one  third  only  of  new  members  should  be  elected. 

It  remained  to  be  seen  who  would  select  the  members. 
Would  the  Convention  itself  appoint  those  of  its  own  body 
■who  were  to  become  a  part  of  the  Council  of  the  Five 
Hundred  and  the  Council  of  the  Ancients,  or  would  the 
electoral  colleges  be  charged  with  that  duty  ? 

On  the  13th  Fructidor  (August  30),  after  a  very  stormy 
session,  it  was  decided  that  the  choice  should  be  delegated 
to  the  electoral  colleges.  That  was  what  they  called  the 
decrees  of  the  5th  and  13th  Fructidor. 

We  are  dwelling  perhaps  too  lengthily  upon  this  purely 
historical  part  of  our  book,  but  it  takes  us  with  great 
strides  towards  the  terrible  day  of  the  13th  Vendémiaire, 
the  first  on  which  Parisians  heard  cannon  booming  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  and  we  wish  to  make  that  crime  fall  upon 
the  heads  of  those  who  were  the  guilty  parties. 

Paris,  from  that  epoch,  though  the  centralization  was 
less  than  it  is  to-day  and  dated  back  only  four  or  five  years, 
Paris  was  already  the  brain  of  France  ;  whatever  Paris 
accepted  France  sanctioned.  This  was  plain  enough  when 
the  Girondins  attempted  vainly  to  federalize  the  provinces. 

Now  Paris  was  divided  into  forty-eight  Sections.  These 
Sections  were  not  royalist  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  protested 
their  attachment  to  the  Republic,  and,  aside  from  two  or 
three  whose  reactionary  opinions  were  known,  none  would 
have  fallen  into  that  absurd  contradiction  of  rejecting  a 
principle  before  it  had  borne  its  fruits  and  after  they  had 
shed  such  blood  and  sacrificed  so  many  of  their  greatest 
citizens  to  maintain  it.  But  Paris,  frightened  at  finding  her- 
self knee-deep  in  blood,  stopped,  stopped  short  three-quarters 
of  the  way,  and  turned  to  attack  the  Terrorists  who  wanted 
to  continue  the  executions,  while  Paris  herself  desired 
them  to  cease.  So  without  deserting  the  banner  of  the 
Revolution,  and  in  fact  showing  themselves  ready  to 
follow  that  banner,  they  refused  to  go  beyond  the  lines 
where  the  Girondins  and  Cordeliers  had  borne  it. 


270  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

That  banner,  therefore,  was  theirs  so  long  as  it  sheltered 
the  remains  of  the  Girondin  and  Cordelier  parties  ;  it  was 
the  banner  of  a  moderate  republic,  which  bore  for  its  motto, 
"  Death  to  the  Jacobins." 

Well,  the  precautions  taken  by  the  Convention  had  no 
other  object  than  to  protect  those  Jacobins  who  had 
escaped  the  9th  Thermidor,  in  whose  hands  the  Convention 
desired  to  replace  the  sacred  ark  of  the  Republic. 

Without  being  aware  of  it,  the  Sections,  under  the  shock 
of  fear,  inspired  by  a  threatened  return  of  the  Terror,  did 
actually  serve  the  royalist  cause  better  than  the  most 
devoted  adherents  could  have  done.  Never  were  there  so 
many  foreigners  in  Paris  ;  the  hôtels  and  lodging-houses 
were  filled  to  their  eaves.  The  faubourg  Saint-Germain,  a 
desert  six  months  earlier,  now  swarmed  with  émigrés,  Chou- 
ans, unsworn  priests,  and  divorced  women.  Rumor  said 
that  Hoche  and  Tallien  had  gone  over  to  the  royalists  ; 
what  they  had  reall}'^  done  was  the  conquest  of  Rovere  and 
Saladin.  It  did  not  concern  itself  with  Lanjuinais,  Boissy 
d'Anglas,  Henry  de  la  Rivière,  and  Lesage,  who  had  always 
been  royalists,  and  wore  a  mask  on  the  days  they  had  been 
forced  to  appear  republican. 

It  was  said  that  great  offers  had  been  made  to  Pichegru  ; 
that  after  rejecting  them  at  first  he  had  changed  his  mind, 
and  the  matter  had  been  arranged  for  a  million  francs  in 
specie,  two  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year  from  the  Funds, 
the  château  of  Chambord,  the  Duchy  of  Artois,  and  the 
government  of  Alsace. 

It  was  amazing  what  a  number  of  émigrés  returned,  some 
with  false  passports  and  names,  others  proclaiming  their 
real  names  and  demanding  that  they  be  erased  from  the  pro- 
scribed lists  ;  others,  again,  showed  false  certificates  of  resi- 
dence to  prove  that  they  had  never  left  France.  It  was  use- 
less to  decree  that  every  returned  émigré  should  go  to  his  own 
country  district  and  there  await  the  decision  of  the  Commit- 
tee of  Public  Safety  ;  the  émigrés  discovered  ways  of  eluding 
the  decree  and  remaining  in  Paris.     It  was  felt,  not  without 


THE   SECTIONS.  271 

a  certain  uneasiness,  that  it  could  not  be  mere  chance  that 
brought  so  many  persons  of  the  same  opinions  to  the  same 
point.  Something,  it  was  believed,  was  plotting,  and  at 
a  given  moment  the  earth  would  open  beneath  the  feet  of 
one  of  the  numerous  parties  who  were  crowding  the  streets 
of  Paris. 

A  great  many  gray  coats  with  black  and  green  collars 
were  seen,  and  every  one  turned  round  to  look  at  them. 
Those  were  the  colors  of  the  Chouans.  Nearly  always  in 
the  wake  of  these  young  men,  wearing  publicly  the  royal 
livery,  came  brawls  and  scuffles,  which,  so  far,  had  kept  up 
an  appearance  of  private  quarrels. 

Dussault  and  Marchenna,  the  two  most  famous  pam- 
phleteers of  that  day,  papered  the  walls  of  the  city  with 
posters  calling  the  Parisians  to  insurrection.  Old  La 
Harpe,  the  pretended  pupil  of  Voltaire,  who  began  by 
vowing  him  a  latrian  worship  and  ended  by  rejecting  him, 
—  old  La  Harpe,  after  being  a  furious  demagogue,  became, 
during  an  imprisonment  of  some  months,  a  savage  reac- 
tionary who  insulted  the  Convention  which  had  honored  him. 
A  man  named  Lemaistre  had  a  workshop  in  Paris  that  was 
openly  royalist,  with  many  correspondents  in  the  provinces  ; 
in  this  way,  by  means  of  ramifications,  he  endeavored  to  turn 
Paris  into  another  La  Vendée.  This  man  had  a  secondary 
establishment  at  Mantes,  which  took  its  orders  from  Paris. 
Lemaistre,  as  we  all  know,  gave  a  splendid  dinner  to  the 
electors  of  Mantes,  after  which  the  amphitryon  (imitating 
the  famous  supper  to  the  guards  of  Versailles)  served  a 
dish  full  of  white  cockades.  Each  guest  took  one  and 
fastened  it  to  his  hat. 

Not  a  day  passed  in  which  some  murder  was  not  committed 
upon  patriots,  and  the  murderer  was  either  an  incoyablo  or  a 
young  man  in  a  gray  coat.  It  was  particularly  in  the 
cafés  about  the  rue  de  la  Loi  (formerly  rue  de  Richelieu) 
at  the  restaurant  Garchi,  the  Théâtre  Feydeau,  and  on  the 
boulevard  des  Italiens  that  these  murders  took  place.  It 
became    very    plain   that  the   underlying  cause   of  these 


272  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

troubles  was  the  opposition  of  the  Sections  to  the  decrees 
of  the  5th  and  13th  Fruetidoi-,  which  prevented  a  fresh  elec- 
tion of  the  two  councils  by  imposing  two  thirds  of  the 
members  of  the  Convention  upon  the  new  Legislative  bodies. 
It  is  true,  as  we  have  said,  that  these  two  thirds  were  to  be 
chosen,  not  by  the  Convention  itself,  as  the  Sections  at 
first  feared,  but  by  the  primary  assemblies.  Still  the 
Sections  had  hoped  for  better  things  ;  they  wanted  a  com- 
plete change,  and  for  that  purpose  a  reactionary  Chamber. 

There  was  talk  at  first  of  appointing  a  President,  but  the 
monarchical  tendency  of  that  was  so  obvious  that  no  sooner 
was  it  made  in  the  Convention  than  Louvet,  one  of  the 
Girondins  who  escaped  massacre,  sprang  up  crying  out  : 
"  Ha  !  so  that  some  day  you  ma}''  appoint  a  Bourbon  !" 

On  that  warning  that  a  presidency  would  open  the  way 
to  royal t}^,  the  Executive  Directory  was  proposed,  to  be 
composed  of  live  members  voting  by  majorit}^,  and  having 
responsible  ministers.  These  propositions  were  voted  upon 
in  the  following  manner  (for  never,  even  in  the  most  pro- 
gressive days  of  the  Revolution,  were  elections  made  on 
such  a  wide  basis  as  they  are  to-day).  Votes  were  cast  at  tw^ 
stages  :  first,  all  citizens  over  twenty-one  assembled  in 
primary  meetings  on  the  1st  of  every  Prairial,  and  elected 
the  electoral  colleges  ;  secondly,  these  electoral  colleges 
assembled  on  the  20th  Prairial  to  appoint  the  two  councils  ; 
the  two  councils,  in  turn,  appointed  the  Directory. 


THE   PRESIDENT   OF   THE   SECTION    LE    PELETnCK.       ^ilS 


V. 


THE    PRESIDENT    OF    THE    SECTION    LE    PELETIEB. 

As  polls  could  not  be  opeued  on  the  1st  Prairial  for  the 
good  reason  that  the  1st  Prairial  was  already  past,  the  20th 
Fructidor  was  the  day  appointed  for  the  election. 

It  was  hoped  that  the  first  act  of  Frenchmen  reunited 
after  such  terrible  experiences  would  be,  like  that  of  the 
Federation  on  the  Champ  de  Mars,  an  act  of  fraternity,  a 
pledge  of  the  forgiveness  of  injuries.  It  was,  on  the  con- 
trary, a  dedication  to  vengeance.  All  the  pure,  disinterested, 
energetic  patriots  were  driven  from  the  Sections,  which  now 
began  to  organize  revolt.  The  defeated  patriots  rushed  to 
the  Convention,  swarmed  into  the  tribunes,  related  what 
had  happened,  and  put  the  Convention  on  its  guard  against 
the  Sections,  demanding  arms  and  declaring  that  they  were 
ready  to  employ  them  in  the  service  of  the  Republic. 

The  next  day  and  the  following  days  the  danger  of  the 
situation  was  fully  understood,  when  it  was  seen  that  forty- 
seven  out  of  the  forty -eight  Sections,  which  made  the  bulk 
of  the  Parisian  population,  had  accepted  the  Constitution 
and  rejected  the  Decrees.  The  Section  of  the  Quinze-Vingts 
alone  had  adopted  all,  Decrees  and  Constitution, 

On  the  other  hand,  the  armies,  two  of  which  were  reduced 
to  inaction  by  peace  with  Prussia  and  with  Spain,  voted 
everything  without  restriction,  amid  cries  of  enthusiasm. 
By  this  time  the  Army  of  the  Sambre-et-Meuse,  the  only  one 
actively  employed,  had  conquered  at  Wattignies,  relieved 
Maubeuge,  triumphed  at  Fleurus,  given  Belgium  to  France, 
crossed  the  Rhine  at  Dusseldorf,  laid  siege  to  Mayence, 
and,  by  the  victories  of  the  Ourthe  and  the  Roër,  had  won 
the   Rhine   for  France.     It  paused  on  the  field  of  battle 

VOL.   I.  —  18 


274  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

itself,  the  field  it  had  just  won,  and  over  the  bodies  of  French- 
man dead  for  liberty  it  swore  fidelity  to  the  new  Constitu- 
tion, which,  while  putting  an  end  to  the  Terror,  upheld  the 
Republic  and  continued  the  Revolution. 

There  was  great  joy  in  the  Convention  and  for  all  the 
true  patriots  who  were  left  in  France,  when  the  news  came 
of  this  enthusiastic  vote  of  the  armies.  On  the  1st 
Vendémiaire  of  the  year  IV.  (September  23, 1795)  the  result 
of  the  voting  was  made  known.  The  Constitution  was 
unanimously  accepted.  The  Decrees  had  a  very  large 
majority.  In  some  localities  the  electors  had  actually  been 
led  to  vote  for  a  king,  —  a  fact  which  proves  the  degree  of 
liberty  of  action  which  followed  within  two  months  after 
the  9th  Thermidor. 

This  news  produced  a  sort  of  excitement  in  Paris,  a 
double  and  conflicting  excitement,  —  of  joy  among  the  Con- 
ventional patriots  ;  of  fury  among  the  royalist  Sections. 

Then  it  was  that  the  Section  Le  Peletier,  known  through- 
out the  Revolution  under  the  name  of  the  Section  of  the 
Filles-Saint-Thomas,  the  most  reactionary  of  all  the  sections, 
the  grenadiers  of  which  had  on  the  10th  of  August  resisted 
the  Marseillais,  set  up  this  principle  :  "The  powers  of  all 
constituent  bodies  cease  in  presence  of  the  assembled 
People." 

This  theory,  put  to  vote  in  the  Section,  was  converted 
into  a  decree,  and  this  decree  was  sent  round  to  the  forty- 
seven  other  Sections,  who  received  it  with  acclamation.  It 
simply  proclaimed  the  dissolution  of  the  Convention. 

The  Convention  did  not  allow  itself  to  be  intimidated  ;  it 
replied  by  a  declaration  and  another  decree.  It  declared 
that  if  its  authority  were  threatened  it  would  retire  to  a 
provincial  town  and  perform  its  functions  there.  It  decreed 
that  all  lands  conquered  beyond  the  Rhine,  as  well  as 
Belgium,  Liege,  and  Luxembourg,  henceforth  belonged  to 
France.  This  was  replying  to  the  threat  of  its  overthroAv 
by  a  proclamation  of  its  grandeur. 

The  Section  Le  Peletier,  treating  with  the  Convention  as 


THE   PRESIDENT   OF   THE   SECTION   LE    PELETIER.       275 

power  to  power,  sent  its  president  at  the  head  of  a  deputa- 
tion of  six  members  to  signify  to  the  Convention  what  it 
called  an  "  act  of  safeguard  ;  "  in  other  words,  a  decree 
issued  by  the  Section,  declaring  that  in  presence  of  the 
assembled  People  the  powers  of  legislative  bodies  ceased. 
The  president  of  this  Section  was  a  young  man  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  always  very  plainly  dressed, 
though  an  air  of  extreme  elegance,  which  was  far  more  in 
his  bearing  than  in  his  clothes,  emanated  from  Lis  whole 
person.  Following  the  fashion,  but  not  to  exaggeration,  he 
wore  a  dark-red  velvet  frock-coat,  with  jet  buttons  cut  in 
facets  and  the  buttonholes  worked  with  black  silk,  A 
white  foulard  cravat  with  floating  ends  swathed  his  neck. 
A  waistcoat  of  white  piqué  with  very  light  blue  flowers, 
trousers  of  pearl-gray  tricot,  white  silk  stockings,  and  a 
broad-brimmed  black  felt  hat,  low  crowned  and  pointed, 
completed  his  attire.  He  had  the  fair  skin  and  blond  hair 
of  a  man  from  the  North  or  East,  keen  and  yet  earnest  eyes, 
white  and  delicate  teeth  between  full  red  lips.  A  tricolor 
sash,  folded  so  that  little  or  none  of  the  white  could  be 
seen,  was  round  his  waist,  which  was  lithe  and  graceful  ; 
from  this  belt  hung  a  sabre,  and  in  it  were  a  pair  of  pistols. 

He  advanced  alone  to  the  bar  of  the  Convention,  leaving 
his  companions  behind  him,  and  with  that  air  of  consum- 
mate insolence  which  had  not  yet  descended  to  the  bour- 
geoisie, or  to  which  the  bourgeoisie  had  not  yet  attained,  he 
said,  in  a  strong  voice,  addressing  Boissy  d' Anglas,  president 
of  the  Convention  :  — 

"  Citizen  representative,  I  have  come  to  announce  to  you 
in  the  name  of  the  mother-Section,  of  which  I  have  the  honor 
to  be  president,  and  in  the  name  of  forty-seven  other  Sec- 
tions (that  of  the  Quinze- Vingts  alone  excepted),  —  I  come 
to  announce  to  you  that  your  powers  are  withdrawn  and 
your  reign  is  over.  We  approve  of  the  Constitution,  but  we 
reject  the  Decrees.  You  have  not  the  right  to  appoint 
yourselves.     Merit  our  suffrages,  do  not  seize  them." 

"  The  Convention  does  not  recognize  the  power  of  either 


276  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

the  mother-Section  or  the  other  Sections,-'  replied  Boissy 
d'Anglas  ;  "  and  it  w  ill  treat  as  rebels  all  those  who  do  not 
obey  its  Decrees." 

"  And  we,"  said  the  young  president,  ''  will  treat  as  an 
oppressor  every  power  which  seeks  to  impose  upon  us  an 
illegal  will." 

"  Take  care,  citizen  !  "  replied  Boissy  d'Anglas,  in  a  calm, 
but  threatening  voice.  "  jSTo  one  has  the  right  to  answer 
back  the  president  of  this  Assembly." 

"Except  me,"  said  the  young  man,  —  "except  me,  who 
am  above  him." 

"  Who  are  you,  then  ?  " 

"  The  voice  of  the  sovereign  People." 

"  And  who  are  we,  Avhom  the  People  have  elected  ?  " 

"  You  are  no  longer  anything  so  soon  as  the  People  have 
reassembled  and  withdrawn  the  powers  they  confided 
to  you.  Appointed  three  years  ago,  you  are  weakened, 
wearied,  worn  out  by  three  years'  struggle.  You  represent 
the  wants  of  an  epoch  past  and  gone  and  already  far  away. 
Was  it  possible,  three  years  ago,  to  foresee  the  events  th?t 
have  now  happened  ?  I,  appointed  three  days  ago,  I  repre- 
sent the  will  of  yesterday,  to-day,  and  to-morrow.  You  — 
you  are  the  elect  of  the  people,  I  agree  to  that,  but  of  the 
people  of  '92,  who  had  royalty  to  destroy,  the  rights  of 
man  to  establish,  the  foreigner  to  drive  from  the  fron- 
tiers, the  factions  to  repress,  scaffolds  to  erect,  heads 
too  lofty  to  strike  off,  estates  to  divide.  Your  w^ork  is 
done,  —  done  well  or  ill  is  not  the  question;  it  is  done,  and 
the  9th  Thermidor  gave  you  your  dismissal.  To-day,  men 
of  the  storm,  you  wish  to  perpetuate  your  power,  when  none 
of  the  causes  that  made  you  what  you  are  remain,  — •  when 
royalty  is  dead,  the  enemy  driven  out,  the  factions  sup- 
pressed, the  scaffolds  useless,  the  estates  divided  ;  you 
wish,  for  your  own  selfish  interests,  your  personal  ambitions, 
to  make  your  power  perpetual,  to  control  our  choice  and 
force  the  people  to  accept  you.  The  People  do  not  want 
you.     A  pure  epoch  demands  pure  hands.     The  Chamber 


THE    PRESIDENT   OF   THE    SECTION    LE    PELETIER.        277 

must  be  purged  of  Terrorists,  whose  names  are  inscribed 
by  history  on  the  guillotine.  This  must  be  ;  it  is  the  logic 
of  the  situation,  it  is  the  voice  of  the  conscience  of  the 
People,  it  is  the  will  of  the  forty-seven  Sections  of  Paris, 
that  is  to  say,  of  the  People  of  Paris." 

This  speech,  listened  to  in  the  silence  of  amazement,  was 
hardly  ended,  voluntarily,  by  the  orator,  when  a  frightful 
tumult  arose  in  the  Chamber  and  in  the  tribunes.  The 
young  president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier  had  just  uttered 
aloud  the  sentiments  that  for  fifteen  days  the  royalist 
committee,  the  émigrés,  and  the  Chouans  had  been  saying 
under  their  breaths  in  every  corner  of  the  city.  For  the 
first  time  the  question  was  clearly  opened  between  the 
monarchists  and  the  republicans. 

The  president  of  the  Convention  rang  his  bell  violently  ; 
finding  that  it  produced  no  effect,  he  put  on  his  hat.  Dur- 
ing this  time  the  orator  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier  stood 
calmly  by,  with  one  hand  on  the  butt  of  his  pistol,  waiting 
until  the  uproar  should  subside  and  allow  the  president  of 
the  Convention  to  reply  to  him. 

Silence  was  long  awaited,  but  it  came  at  last.  Boissy 
d'Anglas  made  a  sign  that  he  wished  to  speak.  He  was 
just  the  man  to  reply  to  such  an  orator.  The  overbearing 
haughtiness  of  the  one  clashed  against  the  disdainful  pride 
of  the  other.  The  monarchical  aristocrat  had  spoken  ;  the 
liberal  aristocrat  replied.  Though  his  forehead  frowned 
and  his  eye  was  darkling  and  dangerous,  his  voice  was 
calm. 

''By  the  patience  of  the  Convention,"  he  said,  "all  of 
you  who  have  listened  to  that  orator  can  measure  the 
Convention's  strength.  If  any  words  like  those  of  the 
citizen  president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier  had  been 
uttered  a  few  months  ago  in  these  precincts,  the  traitorous 
language  would  not  have  been  heard  to  the  end.  The 
arrest  of  the  orator  would  then  and  there  have  been  decreed, 
and  on  the  morrow  his  head  would  have  fallen.  And  why  ? 
because  in  times  of  carnage  we  doubt  all,  even  our  rights, 


278  THE    FIRST    EEPUBLIC. 

and  to  put  an  end  to  doubt  we  annihilate  tlie  object  of  our 
doubt.  In  times  of  peace  and  strength  our  course  is  dif- 
ferent, and  why  ?  we  are  certain  of  our  rights,  and  though 
the  Sections  have  defied  us  we  know  we  are  sustained 
by  France  and  our  invincible  armies.  We  have  listened 
without  impatience  ;  we  answer  without  anger.  Return 
to  those  who  sent  you  ;  say  that  we  give  them  three  days 
in  which  to  see  their  error;  if,  at  the  end  of  that,  time 
they  do  not  voluntarily  obey  the  Decrees,  we  shall  compel 
them  to  do  so  by  force." 

"And  you,"  said  the  young  president,  with  equal  firm- 
ness, "  if  in  three  days  you  have  not  laid  down  your  powers, 
if  you  have  not  withdrawn  the  Decrees,  if  you  have  not 
proclaimed  the  freedom  of  elections,  we  declare  to  you  that 
all  Paris  will  march  upon  the  Convention  and  the  People's 
anger  will  be  felt." 

"So  be  it!"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas  ;  "this  is  the  10th 
Vendémiaire  —  " 

The  young  man  did  not  let  him  finish. 

"On  the  13th  Vendémiaire,  then,"  he  said.  "  That  will 
be,  I  warn  you,  another  bloody  date  to  add  to  your  history." 

Rejoining  his  companions,  he  left  the  Chamber,  and  as 
he  did  so  he  turned  and  threatened  the  whole  Assembly 
with  a  gesture.  No  one  knew  his  name  ;  for  it  was  only 
three  days  since,  on  Lemaistre's  recommendation,  he  had 
received  his  appointment  as  president  of  the  mother-Section. 

The  Convention  asked  :  — 

"  Who  is  he  ?  he  is  not  a  man  of  the  people,  he  is  not  a 
bourgeois,  he  must  be  a  ci-devant.''^ 


THKEE  LEADERS.  '279 


VL 


THREE    LEADERS. 

That  same  evening  the  Section  Le  Peletier  met  in  its 
central  committee  rooms,  secured  the  co-operation  of  the 
Sections  Butte-des-Moulins,  Contrat-Social,  Luxembourg, 
Théâtre-Français,  rue  de  la  Poissonnière,  Brutus,  and 
Temple.  Then  it  lined  the  streets  of  Paris  with  groups 
of  muscadins  (muscadin  is  the  synonym  of  incroi/able,  only 
in  a  more  extended  sense),  groups  which  shouted  as  they 
walked  about:  — 

"  Down  with  the  two-thirds  men  !  " 

The  Convention,  on  the  other  hand,  collected  all  its 
soldiers  into  the  camp  at  Sablons,  about  five  thousand  men 
or  thereabouts,  and  placed  them  under  command  of  General 
Menou,  who,  in  1792,  had  been  at  the  head  of  the  second 
camp  formed  near  Paris,  and  was  afterwards  sent  to  La 
Vendée,  where  he  was  defeated.  Recommended  by  these 
antecedents  he  was  named  general  of  the  interior  on  the 
2d  Prairial,  and  had  saved  the  Convention.  Some  young 
men  who  were  shouting,  "  Down  with  the  two  thirds  !  " 
met  Menou's  patrols,  and  instead  of  dispersing  when 
summoned  to  do  so,  replied  to  the  summons  with  pistol- 
shots  ;  the  soldiers  retorted  with  musketry,  and  blood  was 
drawn. 

During  this  time,  that  is,  during  the  evening  of  the  10th 
Vendémiaire,  the  young  president  of  the  Section  Le  Pele- 
tier, which  was  then  in  session  at  the  convent  of  the  Pilles- 
Saint-Thomas,  situated  in  those  days  exactly  where  the 
Bourse  now  stands,  gave  the  chair  to  the  vice-president, 
and  jumping  into  a  coach  which  he  found  at  the  corner  of 


280  THE   FIKST   EEPUBLIC. 

the  rue  Notre-Dame-des- Victoires  was  driven  to  a  large 
house  in  the  rue  des  Postes,  belonging  to  the  Jesuits.  All 
the  windows  of  this  house  were  closed,  and  not  a  ray  of 
light  liltered  through  them. 

The  young  man  stopped  the  coach  before  the  door  and 
paid  the  coachman  ;  then,  as  soon  as  the  vehicle  had  turned 
the  corner  of  the  rue  du  Puits-qui-parle  and  the  sound  of 
its  wheels  died  away  in  the  distance,  he  walked  a  few  steps 
farther,  passed  the  front  of  the  house,  and  seeing  that  the 
street  was  solitary,  he  knocked  in  a  peculiar  manner  at  a 
little  garden  gate,  which  was  opened  so  quickly  as  to  prove 
that  a  person  was  stationed  behind  it  with  orders  not  to 
keep  a  visitor  waiting. 

''  Moses,"  said  the  person  who  opened  the  gate. 

*'  Manu,"  replied  the  new  arrival. 

On  this  response  of  the  lawgiver  of  the  Hindus  to  the 
lawgiver  of  the  Hebrews  the  gate  was  closed  and  the  young 
president  of  the  Section  Le  Feletier  was  allowed  to  con- 
tinue his  way.  He  went  round  the  house.  The  windows 
were  as  dark  toward  the  garden  as  they  were  toward  the 
street,  but  the  doorway  of  the  portico,  guarded  by  a  second 
watchman,  was  lighted.  To  this  man,  the  new  arrival 
spoke  first. 

"  Moses,"  he  said. 

"  Manu,"  replied  the  other. 

Then  the  guardian  of  the  door  stood  aside  to  let  the 
young  president  pass  in  ;  and  he,  encountering  no  further 
obstacle,  went  straight  to  a  third  door,  opened  it,  and 
entered  a  room  where  the  persons  whom  he  came  to  see 
were  sitting.  They  were  the  presidents  of  the  Sections 
Butte-des-Moulins,  Contrat-Social,  Luxembourg,  rue  de  la 
Poissonnière,  Brutus,  and  Temple,  who  had  come  to  an- 
nounce that  they  were  ready  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the 
mother-Section  and  rebel  with  her. 

The  new  arrival  had  scarcely  opened  the  door  before  a 
man  about  forty-five  years  of  age  in  general's  uniform  came 
to  him  and  shook  hands.     He  was  citizen  Auguste  Danican, 


THREE   LEADERS.  281 

who  had  just  been  made  general-in-chief  of  the  Sections. 
This  officer  had  served  in  La  Vendée  against  the  Vendeans  ; 
but,  being  suspected  of  connivance  with  Georges  Cadoudal, 
he  was  recalled,  escaped  the  guillotine  by  a  miracle,  thanks 
to  the  9th  Thermidor,  and  now  took  his  place  in  the  ranks 
of  the  counter-revolution. 

The  Sections  had  at  first  intended  to  appoint  the  young 
president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier  as  their  commander-in- 
chief,  he  having  been  strongly  recommended  to  them  by  the 
royalist  agency  of  Lemaistre, —  so  strongly  indeed  that  they 
had  sent  to  Besançon  to  request  his  presence  only  four  days 
earlier.  But  the  latter,  when  he  learned  on  his  arrival  that 
overtures  had  already  been  made  to  Danican,  and  that  if  the 
command  were  taken  from  him  he  was  likely  to  become  a 
powerful  enemy  among  the  Sections,  declared  that  he  was 
quite  contented  with  the  second,  or  even  the  third  place, 
on  condition  that  he  should  take  as  active  a  part  as  any 
man  in  the  combat  which  could  not  fail  to  take  place 
before  long. 

When  Danican  came  forward  to  speak  to  the  new-comer 
Xe  quitted  a  man  of  low  stature,  despicable  face,  crooked 
mouth,  and  sinister  eye.  This  was  Freron,  —  Freron,  re- 
pudiated by  the  Montagne,  who  abandoned  him  to  the 
mercies  of  Moise  Bayle  ;  Freron,  the  savage  republican, 
rejected  with  disgvist  by  the  Girondins,  who  gave  him  over  to 
the  blasting  imprecations  of  Isnard;  Freron,  stripped  of  his 
false  patriotism,  naked  though  covered  with  the  leprosy  of 
crime,  who  now,  feeling  the  need  of  shelter  behind  the 
banner  of  some  faction,  had  given  himself  over  to  the 
royalist  party,  which  was  not  over  nice  in  its  choice  of 
recruits. 

We  have  seen  many  revolutions,  and  yet  not  one  of  us 
can  explain  certain  antipathies  which,  in  times  of  trouble, 
attach  themselves  to  such  or  such  political  characters; 
neither  can  we  explain  certain  alliances  so  utterly  illogical 
that  there  is  no  comprehending  them.  Freron  was  nothing  ; 
he   had   never  distinguished  himself  in  any  way  ;  he   had 


282  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

neither  mind,  character,  nor  political  consideration  ;  as  a 
journalist  he  was  one  of  those  hack  writers  who  write 
for  their  daily  bread,  selling  the  rags  of  his  honor 
and  his  father's  reputation  to  the  best  paj'er.  Sent  as 
representative  of  the  people  into  the  provinces,  he  re- 
turned from  Marseille  and  Toulon  soaked  in  royalists' 
blood.  He  was  now,  two  years  later,  under  the  banner  of 
the  royalist  party. 

Explain  that  who  can. 

Freron  now  found  himself  suddenly  at  the  head  of  a 
powerful  party,  a  party  strong  in  youth,  vigor,  and  ven- 
geance, burning  with  the  passions  of  the  times,  which,  the 
laws  being  silent,  led  to  all  except  to  the  giving  of  an 
honest  hand  by  an  honest  man. 

Freron  had  just  been  relating  to  the  meeting,  with  much 
emphasis,  what  the  young  men  who,  as  we  have  already 
said,  were  exchanging  shots  with  Menou's  soldiers,  had  said 
and  done. 

The  young  president,  on  his  side,  related  with  great 
simplicity  what  had  taken  place  in  the  Convention, 
and  declared  that  there  was  now  no  retreating  from 
that  position.  War  was  already  declared  between  the 
usurping  representatives  and  the  Sectionists.  Victory 
would  undoubtedly  belong  to  whoever  was  first  in  the 
field. 

But  no  matter  how  pressing  the  situation  was  felt  to  be, 
Danican  declared  that  nothing  could  be  decided  till 
Lemaistre  and  the  person  who  was  with  him  returned  to  the 
meeting. 

He  had  hardly  uttered  the  words  when  Lemaistre,  the 
chief  of  the  royalist  agency,  re-entered  the  room,  followed 
by  a  man  about  twenty-four  to  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
with  an  open,  frank  face,  fair  curly  hair  covering  almost 
entirely  the  forehead,  prominent  blue  eyes,  a  short  neck 
sunk  in  the  shoulders,  a  broad  chest,  and  Herculean  limbs. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  costume  of  the  rich  peasants  of  the 
Morbihan,    with   the   single   exception   that  a  gold   braid 


THREE   LEADERS.  283 

about  a  finger  wide,  edged  the  collar  and  button  holes  of  his 
coat,  also  the  brim  of  his  hat. 

The  young  president  advanced  to  meet  him.  The 
Chouan  held  out  his  hand.  It  was  evident  that  the  two 
conspirators  knew  they  were  to  meet,  and  that,  without  pre- 
vious personal  acquaintance,  they  recognized  each  other. 


284  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


VII. 

GENERAL  ROUND-HEAD  AND  THE  CHIEF  OE  THE 
COMPANY  OF  JEHU. 

Lemaistre  presented  them  to  each  other. 

"  General  Round-head,"  he  said,  designating  the  Chouan. 
'< Citizen  Morgan,  leader  of  the  Company  of  Jehu,"  he  added, 
bowing  to  the  president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier. 

The  young  men  clasped  hands. 

"  Though  chance  gave  us  birth  at  the  two  extremities  of 
France,"  said  Morgan,  "  the  same  convictions  unite  us. 
And  yet,  though  our  ages  are  the  same,  general,  you  are 
already  celebrated  and  I  am  still  obscure,  or  known  only 
through  the  misfortunes  of  my  family.  It  is  to  their 
misfortunes  and  my  desire  to  avenge  them  that  1  owe  the 
recommendation  of  the  royalist  committee  of  the  Jura,  and 
my  position  in  the  Section  Le  Peletier." 

"  Monsieur  le  comte,"  rei)lied  the  royalist  general,  bow- 
ing, "  I  have  not  the  honor  of  belonging,  as  you  do,  to  the 
nobility  of  France.  No,  I  am  simply  a  son  of  the  thatch 
and  the  plough.  When  men  are  called,  as  we  are,  to  risk 
our  heads  upon  the  same  scaffold,  it  is  well  to  know  each 
other  ;  one  does  n't  want  to  die  in  company  with  those  we 
would  not  live  with." 

"Do  all  the  sons  of  thatch  and  plough  in  your  parts 
express  themselves  as  elegantly  as  you,  general  ?  If  so, 
you  can  have  no  regrets  that  you  were  not  born  to  the 
nobility  to  which  I  have  the  accident  to  belong." 

"  My  education,  monsieur  le  comte,"  returned  the  young 
general,  "  has  not  been  that  of  a  Breton  peasant  :  being  the 
eldest  of  six  children.  I  was  sent  early  to  the  lyceum  at 
Vannes,  and  I  received  a  solid  education  there." 


GENERAL    ROUND-HEAD.  285 

"  Moreover,  I  have  heard,"  said  the  count,  smiling,  "  that 
you  were  born  under  a  star,  and  that  some  prophecy  predicts 
for  you  great  things." 

"  I  don't  know  if  that  prophecy  is  anything  to  boast  of," 
said  the  other,  "  though  it  has  partly  been  accomplished. 
My  mother  was  suckling  me  at  her  breast  while  she  was 
sitting  on  our  door-step,  when  a  beggar,  leaning  on  his 
stick,  came  by  and  looked  at  us.  My  mother,  as  usual, 
cut  him  a  slice  of  bread,  and  put  it,  with  a  sou,  in  his  hand. 
The  beggar  shook  his  head  and  touched  my  forehead  with 
his  skinny  finger.  'There 'sa  child,'  he  said,  'who  will 
bring  great  changes  in  his  family,  and  great  troubles  to  the 
State.'  Then  looking  at  me  rather  sadly,  he  added  :  '  He 
will  die  young,  but  not  before  he  has  done  more  than  the 
oldest  man  ;  '  and  he  went  his  way.  Last  year  the  prophecy 
was  accomplished  for  my  family.  I  took  part,  as  you 
know,  in  the  Vendean  insurrection  of  1793  and  1794." 

*'  And  gloriously  !  "  interrupted  Morgan. 

"  I  did  my  best.  Last  year,  just  as  I  had  organized  the 
Morbihan,  the  gendarmes  and  soldiers  entered  Kerliano  by 
night  and  surrounded  our  house.  Father,  mother,  uncles, 
children,  we  were  all  taken  and  put  in  prison  at  Brest.  It 
was  then  that  the  prediction  made  of  me  when  a  child 
recurred  to  my  mother's  mind.  The  poor  woman,  all  in 
tears,  reproached  me  for  being  the  cause  of  the  family  mis- 
fortunes. I  tried  to  console  and  strengthen  her  by  telling 
her  that  she  suffered  for  God  and  the  King.  But,  bless 
me  !  women  don't  understand  the  value  of  those  two  words. 
My  mother  continued  to  weep,  and  died  in  prison  after 
giving  birth  to  another  child.  ^My  uncle,  a  month  later, 
died  in  the  same  prison.  On  his  death-bed  he  told  me  the 
name  of  one  of  his  friends  to  whom  he  had  lent  the  sum  of 
nine  thousand  francs  with  a  promise  of  its  being  returned 
on  demand.  After  my  uncle  died  I  had  but  one  idea,  — to 
escape  from  prison,  obtain  that  money,  and  apply  it  to  the 
cause  of  the  insurrection.  I  succeeded.  My  uncle's  friend 
lived  at  Rennes.     I  went  there.     He  was  in  Paris.     I  took 


286  TEE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

his  address  and  followed  hiin.  I  have  just  seen  him  ,  faith- 
ful and  loyal  Breton  tliat  he  is,  he  has  returned  to  me  in  gold 
the  money  that  he  borrowed  in  gold.  I  have  it  here  in  my 
belt,"  continued  the  young  general,  striking  his  side,  — 
"nine  thousand  francs  in  gold,  which  are  worth  two  hun- 
dred thousand  in  these  days.  Convulse  I'aris  on  the  one 
hand,  and  I  promise  you  that  within  two  weeks  the  Morbi- 
han shall  be  in  flames." 

The  two  young  men  had  walked  aside  during  their  col- 
loquy and  were  now  standing  alone  in  the  embrasure  of  a 
window.  The  president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier  looked 
about  him  and  seeing  that  they  were  too  far  away  from  the 
other  conspirators  to  be  overheard,  he  laid  his  hand  on  the 
general's  arm  and  said  :  — 

"  You  have  spoken  to  me  of  your  family,  general  ;  I  owe 
you  the  same  explanations  on  my  family  and  on  myself. 
Morgan  is  only  a  pseudonym.  My  name  is  Edouard  de 
Sainte-Hermine  ;  my  father,  Comte  Prosper  de  Sainte- 
Hermine,  was  guillotined;  my  mother  died  of  grief;  my 
brother,  Léon  de  Sainte-Hermine,  has  been  shot.  Just  as 
my  father  bequeathed  his  vengeance  to  my  elder  brother,  so 
my  brother  bequeathed  to  me  that  of  my  father  and  his 
own.  A  young  lad  of  our  neighborhood,  who  was  present  at 
his  execution,  brought  me  his  fatigue  cap,  the  last  and  only 
legacj'  he  could  leave  me.  It  said  to  me  :  *  Your  turn  now!' 
I  devoted  myself  to  the  work.  Not  being  able  to  incite  the 
Jura  and  Alsace,  which  are  both  revolutionary,  to  rise, 
I  have,  with  my  friends,  young  nobles  from  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Lyon,  organized  parties  to  capture  the  money  of  the 
government  and  send  it  to  you  and  your  friends  in  the 
Morbihan  and  La  Vendée.  That  is  why  I  have  been  so 
anxious  to  meet  you.  We  are  destined  to  grasp  hands 
across  all  France." 

"  Only,"  said  the  general,  laughing,  "  T  hold  out  an  empty 
hand,  and  yours  fills  it." 

"That  is  a  small  matter  in  comparison  to  the  glory  you 
are  winning  every  day,  while  our  sort  of  warfare  wins  none. 


GENERAL   ROUND-HEAD.  287 

Well,  it  can't  be  helped  ;  every  one  must  work  for  the  cause 
of  God  wherever  God  has  placed  him.  That  is  why  I  have 
hastened  here  to  do  what  I  can  in  tlie  struggle  just  before 
us.  What  will  be  the  result  ?  Xo  one  can  even  surmise. 
If  they  have  no  better  man  to  oppose  to  us  than  Menou 
the  Convention  is  lost,  and  the  day  after  it  is  dissolved  the 
monarchy  will  be  proclaimed,  and  Louis  XVIII.  will  ascend 
the  throne." 

"How  so,  —  Louis  XVIII.  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Chouan. 

"Yes;  Louis  XVII. ,  who  died  in  prison,  had  not  ceased 
to  be  king.  You  know  the  cry  of  the  French  monarchy, 
'  The  King  is  dead  ;  long  live  the  King  !  '  King  Louis  XVI. 
is  dead  ;  long  live  King  Louis  XVII.  !  King  Louis  XVII. 
is  dead  ;  long  live  King  Louis  XVIII.  !  The  regent  does  not 
succeed  liis  brother,  he  succeeds  his  nephew." 

"  A  singular  reign,  that  of  the  poor  boy,"  said  the 
Chouan,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  —  "a  reign  in  which  they 
guillotined  his  mother  and  aunt,  and  during  which  he  was 
prisoner  in  the  Temple,  with  a  cobbler  for  a  tutor  !  I  will 
admit  to  you,  my  dear  count,  that  the  party  to  Avhich  I  have 
devoted  myself,  body  and  soul,  has  had  aberrations  which 
alarm  me.  X"ow,  suppose  —  God  grant  it  may  not  be  so  — 
that  his  Majesty  Louis  XVIII.  does  not  ascend  the  throne 
for  a  dozen  years  ;  will  he  still  have  reigned  those  dozen 
years  over  France,  no  matter  in  what  corner  of  the  earth  he 
may  have  been  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then  it  is  absurd.  But,  excuse  me,  I  am  a  peasant  and 
I  am  not  expected  to  understand  such  things.  Royalty  is 
my  second  religion,  and  for  that,  as  for  the  first,  I  have 
faith." 

"You  have  a  great  heart,  general,"  said  Morgan,  "and 
whether  or  not  we  ever  see  each  other  again,  I  trust  we 
may  be  friends.  If  we  never  meet  again  it  will  be  because 
I  am  dead,  —  shot  or  guillotined.  In  that  case,  just  as  my 
elder  brother  inherited  my  father's  vengeance,  and  I  have 
inherited  his,  so  my  younger  brother  will  inherit  that  which 


288  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

I  shall  bequeath  to  him.  If  royalty,  thanks  to  the  sacrifices 
we  have  all  made  for  it,  is  saved,  we  shall  be  heroes.  If,  in 
spite  of  those  sacritices,  it  is  lost,  we  shall  be  martyrs. 
You  see  that  in  either  case  we  shall  have  nothing  to  regret." 

The  Chouan  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  plunging 
his  eyes  into  those  of  the  young  noble,  he  said  :  — 

"  Monsieur  le  comte,  when  men  like  you  and  me  meet  and 
have  the  good  fortune  to  belong  to  ihe  same  cause,  they 
ought  to  swear  to  each  other,  I  will  not  say  eternal  friend- 
ship, for  perhaps  the  nobleman  would  hesitate  to  descend 
to  the  peasant,  but  an  unalterable  regard.  Monsieur  le 
comte,  receive  the  assurance  of  mine." 

"  General,"  said  Morgan,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  I  offer 
you  more  than  friendship,  I  offer  you  fraternity." 

The  young  men  threw  themselves  into  each  other's  arms 
with  the  clasp  of  a  lasting  friendship. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  GREEN  COAT.         289 


VIII. 

THE   MAN    IN"   THE    GREEN    COAT. 

The  assistants  in  this  scene  had  looked  on  from  afar, 
recognizing  the  fact  that  they  had  before  their  eyes  two 
powerful  personalities.  Lemaistre  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "you  are  all  witnesses  of  the 
fraternal  union  of  these  two  leaders  of  the  same  cause, 
which  is  our  cause  also.  These  are  men  who  will  do  more 
than  they  pledge  themselves  to  do.  One  is  forced  to  return 
to  the  Morbihan  to  unite  the  movement  there  with  the  one 
we  are  about  to  make  here.  The  other  must  prepare,  and 
make  ready  to  direct,  our  own  movement  here.  Let  us 
therefore  take  leave  of  the  general,  who  has  now  finished 
his  work  in  Paris,  and  devote  ourselves  to  our  own,  which 
is  well  begun." 

"Gentlemen,'"  said  the  Chouan,  "I  should  certainly  offer 
to  remain  here,  to  fire  a  first  gun  with  you  to-morrow,  or 
next  day.  or  the  day  after,  as  the  case  may  be;  but  I  con- 
fess in  all  huiaility  that  I  do  not  know  much  about  street 
warfare.  M}'^  war  is  made  among  ravines  and  ditches, 
gorse  and  forests.  Here  I  should  be  one  soldier  the  more, 
but  down  there  I  should  be  a  leader  the  less;  and  since 
Quiberon  of  fatal  memory  there  are  but  two  left,  Mercier 
and  I." 

"Go,  my  dear  general,"  said  Morgan;  "you  are  happy 
in  being  able  to  fight  in  the  open,  without  fearing  that  the 
chimneys  of  the  houses  will  be  down  upon  your  head. 
God  bring  me  to  you  once  more,  or  you  to  me." 

VOL.    I.  —  19 


290  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

The  Chouan  officer  took  leave  of  every  one,  but  with 
more  feeling  perhaps  toward  his  new  friend  than  toward 
his  old  ones.  Then,  without  followers  and  on  foot,  like 
the  most  insignificant  of  men,  he  made  his  way  to  the 
Orléans  barrier. 

"  A  bold  fellow,  Cadoudal  !  ''  was  the  comment  of  Danican, 
Lemaistre,  and  those  he  left  behind  him  to  mature  their 
plans  for  the  next  day. 

About  the  same  hour  at  which  Georges  Cadoudal  (whose 
incognito  we  have  just  betrayed)  was  taking  leave  of  citi 
zen  Morgan  and  making  his  way  to  the  Orleans  barrier, 
a  group  of  those  young  men  of  whom  we  have  already 
spoken  in  the  preceding  chapter  were  passing  from  the 
rue  de  la  Loi  to  tlie  rue  Feydeau,  shouting,  — 

"  Down  with  the  Convention  !  Down  with  the  two  thirds  ! 
Long  live  the  Sections  !  " 

At  the  corner  of  the  rue  Feydeau  they  came  face  to  face 
with  a  patrol  of  patriot  soldiers,  on  whom  the  last  orders 
of  the  Convention  enjoined  particular  severity  against  mid- 
night brawlers.  The  two  parties  were  about  equal  in 
numbers,  so  that  the  three  summons  to  disperse  required 
by  law  were  received  with  sneers  and  jeers;  and  the  only 
reply  made  to  the  third  was  a  pistol-shot  from  the  group 
of  young  men,  which  wounded  a  soldier. 

The  patrol  replied  with  a  volley,  which  killed  one  of 
the  rioters  and  wounded  two  others.  The  guns  being 
discharged,  the  parties  were  equal  as  to  weapons.  Thanks 
to  their  enormous  canes,  or  rather  cudgels,  the  Sectionists 
could  knock  aside  the  bayonets  as  they  would  the  point  of 
a  sword  in  a  duel,  and  get  in  direct  blows,  which,  though 
the  cudgels  could  not  pierce  the  breast  like  bayonets,  were 
not  less  dangerous;  such  blows  upon  the  head,  if  not 
parried,  brought  a  man  down  like  an  ox. 

As  usual,  this  affray,  which  involved  an  unusual  number 
of  persons,  put  the  whole  neighborhood  in  a  ferment,  and 
took  on  alarming  proportions.     The   excitement    was  all 


THE   MAN   IN   THE   GREEN   COAT  291 

the  greater  because  there  was  a  first  representation  that 
night  at  the  Théâtre  Feydeau,  the  aristocratic  theatre  of 
the  period.  They  were  playing  "Toberne,  or  the  Swedish 
Fisherman,"  words  by  Patras,  music  by  Bruni,  and  "The 
Good  Son,"  words  by  Louis  Hennequiu,  music  by  Lebrun. 
Consequently  the  place  Feydeau  was  filled  with  carriages, 
and  the  passage  Feydeau  with  a  line  of  theatre-goers  on 
foot. 

At  the  cries  of  "  Down  with  the  Convention!  Down  with 
the  two  thirds  !  "  and  the  noise  of  the  shots  which  fol- 
lowed the  cries,  and  the  vociferations  that  followed  the 
shots,  the  carriages  were  all  driven  hastily  away,  some 
getting  foul  of  one  another;  the  spectators  on  foot,  fearful 
of  being  shot,  or  captured,  or  run  down  and  smothered  in 
the  narrow  passage-ways,  forced  their  way  back;  windows 
opened,  and  imprecations  were  rained  upon  the  soldiers  by 
men,  while  gentler  voices  encouraged  the  young  men  of 
the  Sections,  who  were,  as  we  have  said,  the  handsomest, 
wealthiest,  and  best-dressed  men  in  Paris.  The  lan- 
terns suspended  beneath  the  arcades  lighted  up  the 
scene. 

Suddenly  a  voice  cried  out  distinctly,  in  a  tone  of 
agony,  "Citizen  in  the  green  coat!  look  out  for  your- 
self!" 

The  citizen  in  the  green  coat,  who  was  facing  two  sol- 
diers, understood  from  that  warning  that  he  was  threatened 
behind.  He  sprang  to  one  side  and  dealt  a  blow  haphazard 
with  his  cane,  but  with  such  luck  that  he  broke  the  arm  of 
a  soldier  who  was  about  to  pin  him  with  a  bayonet,  and 
followed  it  with  another  in  the  face  of  a  man  who  was 
brandishing  the  stock  of  a  musket  and  about  to  bring  it 
down  upon  his  head.  Then  he  looked  up  to  the  window 
whence  the  voice  had  come,  sent  a  kiss  to  a  white  and 
graceful  form,  which  leaned  from  a  balcony,  and  was  on 
guard  in  time  to  parry  another  bayonet-thrust  aimed  at 
his  bosom. 

But  almost  at  that  instant  help  arrived  for  the  soldiers 


292  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

of  the  Convention.     A  dozen  armed  men  rushed  from  the 
nearest  guard-bouse,  crying  out,  — 

"Death  to  the  muscadins!  " 

The  young  man  in  the  green  coat  saw  himself  surrounded  ; 
but,  thanks  to  a  vigorous  twirl  of  his  cane,  which  ho 
described  about  his  head  like  a  halo,  he  succeeded  in  keep- 
ing his  assailants  at  a  distance,  all  the  while  beating  a 
retreat,  and  endeavoring  to  reach  the  arcade.  This  retreat, 
not  less  able,  but  assuredly  more  difficult  than  that  of 
Xenophon,  was  aimed  for  a  gateway  with  iron  panels  most 
artisticall}'  wrought,  which  he  had  just  soen  closed  in  haste, 
the  porter  extinguishing  the  lantern  above  it.  P)Ut  before 
the  lantern  was  put  out,  the  young  man  saw  with  the  eye 
of  a  skirmisher  that  the  gate  was  not  closed,  only  pushed 
to.  If  he  could  reach  it,  enter  it^  and  close  it  upon  his 
assailants,  he  was  safe;  unless,  indeed,  the  porter  was 
patriot  enough  to  refuse  a  louis  d'or,  which  at  tliat  period 
was  worth  twelve  hundred  francs,  — a  patriotism  not  likely 
to  be  jDut  in  practice. 

But,  as  if  his  adversaries  guessed  his  intentions,  the 
nearer  he  got  to  the  gate  the  harder  they  pressed  him. 
Adroit  and  vigorous  as  he  was,  the  struggle,  wliich  had 
lasted  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  was  beginning  to 
tell  on  him;  it  weakened  his  perceptions  and  exhausted 
his  strength.  Still,  as  there  were  but  two  steps  more  to 
make  to  reach  the  ark  of  safety,  he  summoned  all  his 
energy,  knocked  over  one  assailant  with  a  blow  on  the 
head,  pushed  another  aside  with  his  fist,  and  reached  the 
gate;  but  at  the  very  instant  that  he  pushed  it  back  he 
could  not  ward  a  blow  from  the  butt  end  of  a  gun  (happily 
delivered  flat)  on  his  forehead. 

The  blow  was  violent;  sparks  flew  about  the  young  man's 
eyes,  and  his  blood  beat  like  a  torrent  in  his  arteries.  But, 
blinded  as  he  was,  his  presence  of  mind  did  not  forsake 
him.  He  bounded  back  and  propped  himself  against  the 
gate,  which  he  closed  violently,  flung  the  louis  to  the 
porter,   and  seeing  a  staircase   lighted  by  a  lantern,    he 


THE   MAN   IN   THE   GREEN   COAT.  293 

sprang  to  it  rapidly,  and  went  up  ten  steps  holding  to  the 
rail;  but  there,  the  walls  of  the  house  seemed  shaking 
around  him,  the  stairs  trembled,  and  he  fancied  that  he 
rolled  down  a  precipice. 

Happily,   he  merely  fainted  and  slipped  gently  down 
upon  the  stairs. 


294  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


IX. 


AN   INCROYABLE    AND    A    MERVEILLEUSE. 

A  SENSATION  of  coolness  brought  him  to.  His  glance,  at 
first  vague  and  undecided,  presently  fixed  itself  on  sur- 
rounding objects.  There  was  nothing  alarming  about 
them.  He  was  lying  in  a  boudoir,  which  was  also  a  dress- 
ing-room, hung  with  lustrous  pearl-gray  satin  scattered 
over  with  bunches  of  roses;  the  sofa  on  which  he  lay  was 
covered  in  the  same  material. 

A  woman  behind  him  was  supporting  his  head  on  a 
pillow,  while  another  on  her  knees  before  him  was  wash- 
ing his  forehead  with  a  perfumed  sponge.  Hence  the  soft 
sensation  of  coolness  which  had  brought  him  to.  The 
woman,  or  rather  the  young  girl,  who  was  bathing  his  head 
was  pretty  and  daintily  dressed,  but  it  was  the  daintiness 
and  prettiness  of  a  waiting-maid.  The  eyes  of  the  young 
man  did  not,  therefore,  rest  upon  her,  but  were  raised 
towards  the  other  woman,  who  was  evidently  the  mistress 
of  the  first.  He  gave  an  exclamation  of  pleasure  as  he 
recognized  the  person  who  had  warned  him  from  the 
window,  and  he  made  a  movement  to  rise  toward  her; 
but  she  held  him  down  with  two  white  hands  applied  to 
his  shoulders. 

"Gently,  citizen  Coster  de  Saint-Victor,"  she  said.  "We 
must  first  attend  to  your  wound;  after  that  I  will  deter- 
mine how  far  your  gratitude  may  go." 

"Ah!  so  you  know  me,  madame,"  said  the  3'Oung  man, 
with  a  smile  that  showed  a  set  of  dazzling  teeth  and  a 
glance  which  few  women  ever  resisted. 


AN   INCKOYABLE    AND   A   MERVEILLEUSE.  295 

"Who  does  not  know  the  handsome  Coster  de  Saint 
Victor,  the  king  of  elegance  and  fashion,  —  if  the  title 
'king'  were  not  abolished?" 

Coster  de  Saint-Victor  made  a  sudden  turn  and  saw  the 
young  woman  face  to  face. 

"Obtain  the  restoration  of  that  title,  madame,  and  I  will 
proclaim  the  beautiful  Aurelie  de  Saint-Amour  queen." 

"Ha!  so  you  know  me,  citizen  Coster?"  said  the  young 
woman  in  her  turn,  laughing. 

"Who  doesn't  know  the  modern  Aspasia?  This  is  the 
first  time  I  hav  e  the  honor  of  being  near  you  ;  and  I  now 
say,  madame  —  " 

"Well,  you  say  what?" 

"  That  Paris  need  not  envy  Athens,  nor  Barras  Pericles. 

"Well,  well;  that  blow  on  your  head  is  not  as  dangerous 
as  I  feared." 

"How  so?" 

"Because  it  has  not  taken  the  wit  out  of  it." 

"No,"  said  Coster,  lifting  the  hand  of  the  handsome 
courtesan  to  his  lips;  "but  it  may  take  the  reason." 

At  that  moment  the  bell  rang  in  a  peculiar  manner. 
The  hand  that  Coster  held  quivered;  Aurelie's  maid  sprang 
up  and  looked  at  her  mistress  anxiously. 

"Madame,"  she  said,  "it  is  the  citizen-general." 

"Yes,"  replied  Aurelie;  "I  know  that." 

"What  will  he  say?"  exclaimed  the  maid. 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing?" 

"Exactly;  for  I  shall  not  admit  him." 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  petulant  air. 

"Not  admit  the  citizen-general  Barras?"  cried  the  maid, 
giving  her  mistress  a  frightened  look. 

"  What  !  "  exclaimed  Coster  de  Saint-Victor,  with  a  burst 
of  laughter,  "is  it  citizen  Barras  who  is  ringing?" 

"Himself;  and  you  see,"  added  Mademoiselle  de  Saint- 
Amour,  "that  he  is  quite  as  impatient  as  an  ordinary 
mortal." 


296  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"But,  madame  —  "  insisted  the  maid. 

"I  am  mistress  in  my  own  house,"  said  the  capricious 
young  woman;  "it  pleases  me  to  receive  M,  Coster  de 
Saint-Victor,  and  it  does  not  please  me  to  receive  M. 
Barras." 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  my  generous  hostess  !  "  said  Coster  de 
Saint-Victor;  "but  my  delicacy  is  opposed  to  your  making 
such  a  sacrifice.  I  beg  you  to  allow  your  maid  to  open  the 
door;  and  while  the  citizen  is  in  the  salon  I  can  surely  get 
out  by  some  other  way." 

"I  will  admit  him  on  condition  that  you  do  not  go 
away." 

"Oh,  I'll  stay,"  said  Coster,  "and  gladly,  too,  I  assure 
you." 

The  bell  rang  for  the  third  time. 

"Go  and  open  the  door,  Suzette,"  said  Aurélie. 

Suzette  hurried  away.  Aurélie  bolted  the  door  of  the 
boudoir  behind  her,  put  out  the  candles  that  were  burning 
on  the  psyche,  looked  for  Saint-Victor  in  the  darkness, 
found  him,  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead,  saying,  — 

"Wait  here  for  me." 

Then  she  entered  the  salon  by  the  door  from  the  boudoir 
just  as  citizen-general  Barras  was  entering  it  from  the 
dining-room. 

"Ah,  my  beauty!  what  is  this  I  hear?"  he  exclaimed, 
going  up  to  her.  "  Have  they  been  cutting  throats  under 
your  windows?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  general,  in  such  a  terrifying  way  that 
that  silly  Suzette  was  afraid  to  open  the  door  to  you  ;  she 
fancied  it  was  some  of  the  rioters  trying  to  get  in.  I  kept 
telling  her,  *It  is  the  general's  ring;  don't  you  know  it?' 
I  really  thought  T  should  have  to  go  and  open  the  door  to 
you  myself.  But  what  procures  me  the  pleasure  of  a  visit 
from  you  to-night?" 

"They  give  a  first  representation  this  evening  at  the 
Feydeau;  I  want  to  take  you,  if  you  will  come  with  me." 

"No,   thank  you;    all  that  firing  and  the   shouts   and 


AN   INCROYABLE    AND   A   MERVEILLEUSE.  297 

vociferations  have  completely  upset  me.      I  am  ill,  and 
I  shall  stay  at  home." 

"  Very  well  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  play  is  over  I  shall  come 
and  ask  you  for  some  supper." 

"Ah!  you  ought  to  have  given  me  notice;  there  is  abso- 
lutely nothing  in  the  house." 

"Don't  be  uneasy,  my  dearest;  I  will  go  over  to  Garchis, 
and  tell  him  to  send  you  a  bisque,  a  cold  pheasant  and  a 
bechamel,  a  few  shrimps,  a  mould  of  ice-cream  and  fruit, 
—  a  mere  trifle  of  some  kind." 

"  My  dear  friend,  you  had  much  better  let  me  go  to  bed. 
I  assure  you  I  am  horribly  out  of  humor." 

"I  don't  prevent  you  from  going  to  bed.  You  can  sup 
in  bed,  and  be  as  ill-humored  as  you  like." 

"You  really  insist?" 

"No,  I  entreat;  you  know,  madame,  you  are  the  only 
mistress  here  ;  I  am  but  the  first  of  your  servants." 

"How  can  I  refuse  anything  to  a  man  who  talks  like 
that?  Go  to  the  Feydeau,  monseigneur,  and  your  humble 
servant  will  expect  you." 

"My  dear  Aurelie,  you  are  simply  adorable;  and  I 
don't  know  why  I  do  not  bar  your  windows  like  those  of 
Rosine." 

"Why  should  you?     You  are  Count  Almaviva." 

"Is  there  no  Cherubino  hidden  in  your  closet?" 

"I  shall  not  say  to  you,  *  Here  is  the  key;  '  I  say  to  you, 
'  It  is  in  the  door.'  " 

"  Well,  see  how  magnanimous  I  am  :  if  there  is  any  one 
there,  I  leave  him  time  to  get  away.  Therefore,  au  revoir, 
my  beautiful  divinity.     Expect  me  in  about  an  hour." 

"Very  good;  and  tell  me  all  about  the  play.  I  shall 
enjoy  it  more  than  if  I  saw  it." 

"So  be  it;  but  I  will  not  engage  to  sing  it  to  you." 

"When  I  want  singing,  my  dear  friend,  I  send  for 
Garat." 

"I  know  that;  and  be  it  said^  by  the  way,  my  dear 
Aurelie,  that  you  send  for  him  pretty  often." 


298  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Oh,  don't  be  uneasy;  your  rights  are  protected  by 
Madame  Krudener.     She  never  lets  him  out  of  her  sight." 

"They  are  writing  a  romance  together." 

"Yes,  in  action." 

"You  are  malicious." 

"Xo,  I  am  not;  it  doesn't  paj'.  I  leave  that  kind  of 
thing  to  virtuous  women  who  are  old  and  rich." 

"  Once  more,  will  you  come  with  me  to  the  Feydeau?  " 

"No,  thank  you." 

"Very  well;  au  revoir." 

"Au  revoir." 

Aurélie  conducted  the  general  to  the  door  of  the  salon, 
and  Suzette  took  him  to  the  door  of  the  apartment,  which 
she  double-locked  behind  him.  When  the  handsome  Aurélie 
turned  round  she  saw  Coster  de  Saint- Victor  on  the  thresh- 
old of  the  boudoir,  and  she  gave  a  sigh;  he  was  wonder- 
fully handsome. 


TWO   PÛKTRAITS.  299 


X. 


TWO    PORTRAITS. 

Coster  de  Saint-Victok  had  not  returned,  like  some 
Incroyables,  to  the  use  of  powder.  He  wore  his  hair  with- 
out comb  or  queue,  simply  floating  in  locks  that  were  black 
as  jet;  so  were  the  eyebrows  and  lashes  surrounding  large 
sapphire-blue  eyes,  which  were,  according  to  the  expression 
he  chose  to  give  them,  full  of  power  or  of  gentleness.  His 
skin,  now  a  little  pale  from  the  blood  he  had  lost,  was 
of  ivory  whiteness;  the  nose  was  straight  and  delicate 
and  quite  irreproachable;  the  firm  red  lips  disclosed  his 
handsome  teeth,  and  the  rest  of  the  body,  thanks  to  the 
shape  of  the  clothing  of  that  day,  which  brought  out  all 
the  lines  of  the  figure,  seemed  modelled  from  that  of  the 
Antinous. 

The  two  young  people  looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment 
in  silence. 

"Did  you  hear?"  said  Aurélie. 

"  Alas,  yes  !  "  replied  Coster. 

"He  sups  here,  and  it  is  your  fault." 

"How  so?" 

"You  forced  me  to  admit  him." 

"Does  it  annoy  you  that  he  should  sup  here?" 

"Of  course  it  does." 

"Truly?" 

"I  swear  it!  I  am  not  in  the  mood  to  be  amiable  to-night 
to  persons  I  don't  love." 

"But  to  those  whom  you  do  love  —  " 

"Ah,  I  should  be  charming!  "  said  Aurélie. 

"Suppose,"  said  Coster,  "I  found  a  way  to  prevent  him 
from  supping  with  you?  " 


300  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Well?" 

"Who  would  sup  in  his  place?" 

"A  pretty  question,  — he  who  prevented  the  other  from 
supping." 

"And  you  would  not  be  ill-humored  with  him?" 

"Oh,  no!" 

"Pledge  it!" 

She  held  out  her  cheek,  and  he  pressed  his  lips  to  it.  At 
that  moment  the  bell  rang  again. 

"  Ah  !  this  time  1  warn  you,  ''  said  Saint-Victor,  "'  that  if 
he  has  been  stupid  enough  to  come  back  1  shall  not  go 
away.  " 

Suzette  put  her  head  into  the  room. 

"Am  I  to  open  the  door,  madame?"  she  asked,  frightened. 

"Of  course;  open  at  once." 

Suzette  went  to  the  door.  A  man  with  a  large  flat  basket 
on  his  head  came  in,  saying:  — 

"Supper  for  citizen-general  Barras." 

"Do  you  hear  that?  "  said  Aurélie. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Incroyable;  "but  on  the  word  of  a 
Saint- Victor  he  shall  not  eat  it." 

"Am  I  to  set  the  table  all  the  same?"  said  Suzette, 
laughing. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  as  he  darted  from  the 
room;  "if  he  does  n't  eat  it,  another  will." 

Aurélie  followed  him  with  her  eyes.  Then,  when  the 
door  closed  upon  him,  she  turned  to  her  waiting- woman. 

"Come  and  dress  me,  Suzette,"  she  said;  "and  make  me 
as  handsome  as  you  can." 

"For  which  of  the  two  does  madame  wish  to  look 
handsome?" 

"I  don't  know  yet;  meantime,  make  me  handsome  —  for 
myself." 

Suzette  immediately  set  about  the  business. 

We  have  already  described  the  dress  of  the  fine  ladies  of 
that  day,  and  Aurélie  was  a  fine  lady.  Belonging  to  a  good 
family  in  Provence,  and  playing  the  rôle  we  have  already 


Portrait  of  Barras 


TWO   PORTRAITS.  30 1 

indicated,  it  is  best  to  leave  her  the  name  she  took,  and  by 
which  she  appears  in  the  archives  of  the  police-office.  Her 
history  was  that  of  nearly  all  the  women  of  her  class,  for 
whom  the  Thermidorian  reaction  was  a  triumph.  She  was 
a  young  girl  without  fortune,  seduced  in  1790  by  a  young 
noble  who  took  her  from  her  family,  brought  her  to 
Paris,  emigrated,  entered  Conde's  army,  and  was  killed 
in  1793.  She  was  thus  left  alone,  without  other  property 
than  her  youth  and  her  beauty.  Picked  up  by  a.  fermier- 
général,  she  regained  even  more  luxury  than  she  had  lost. 
But  the  time  came  for  the  suppression  of  the  fermiers- 
généraux.  Aurélie's  protector  was  among  the  twenty- 
seven  persons  executed  with  Lavoisier  May  8,  1794.  Before 
dying,  he  gave  her  outright  a  large  sum  of  money,  of 
which  she  had  hitherto  enjo}- ed  the  interest  only  ;  so  that, 
without  having  an  actual  fortune,  the  handsome  Aurelie  was 
far  above  want. 

Barras  heard  of  her  beauty  and  her  distinction,  obtained 
an  introduction  to  her,  and  after  a  certain  period  of  proba- 
tion was  accepted.  He  was  then  a  very  handsome  man  of 
forty,  belonging  to  a  noble  family  of  Provence,  —  a  con- 
tested nobility,  though  quite  incontestable  for  those  who 
know  the  old  saying,  "  Old  as  the  rocks  of  Provence,  noble 
as  the  Barras." 

A  sub-lieutenant  at  eighteen  in  the  Languedoc  regiment, 
he  had  quitted  it  to  go  out  and  join  his  uncle,  the  governor 
of  the  île  de  France.  He  came  near  perishing  in  a  ship- 
wreck off  the  coast  of  Coromandel,  seized  the  helm  himself 
at  the  right  moment,  and,  thanks  to  his  courage  and  cool- 
ness, managed  to  beach  the  ship  safely  on  an  island  inhabited 
only  by  savages.  Here  they  remained,  he  and  his  compan- 
ions, for  over  a  month.  They  were  finally  rescued  and 
taken  to  Pondicherry.  Barras  returned  in  1788  to  France, 
where  a  great  future  awaited  him. 

At  the  time  of  the  convocation  of  the  States-General, 
Barras,  like  Mirabeau,  did  not  hesitate;  he  offered  himself 
as  a  candidate  of  the  middle  party,  and  was  elected.     On 


302  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  14th  of  July  he  was  seen  among  the  conquerors  of  the 
Bastille  ;  as  a  member  of  the  Convention  he  voted  the  death 
of  the  king;  as  deputy  he  was  sent  to  Toulon  after  its 
recovery  from  the  English.  His  report  from  there  is  well 
known.     He  simply  proposed  to  raze  the  town. 

On  his  return  to  the  Convention  he  took  an  active  part  in 
all  the  great  days  of  tiie  Revolution,  and  particularly  that 
of  the  9th  Thermidor;  so  that  when  the  new  Constitution 
was  proposed  he  seemed  destined,  infallibly,  to  be  one  of 
the  five  Directors. 

We  have  mentioned  his  age  and  his  beauty.  He  was 
a  man  about  five  feet  seven  in  height,  with  handsome  hair, 
which  he  powdered  to  conceal  the  fact  that  it  was  turning 
gray,  splendid  eyes,  a  straight  nose,  and  thick  lips  defining 
a  sympathetic  mouth.  Without  adopting  the  exaggerated 
fashions  of  the  jeunesse  dorée,  he  followed  them  in  the 
degree  of  elegance  that  was  suited  to  his  years. 

As  for  the  beautiful  Aurelie  de  Saint- Amour,  she  was 
just  twenty-one  years  old,  entering  the  true  period  of  a 
woman's  beauty,  which  is,  according  to  our  ideas,  from 
twenty-one  to  thirty-five.  Her  nature  was  extremely  fas- 
tidious, extremely  sensual,  extremely  impressionable. 
Within  herself  she  bore  fiower  and  fruit  of  woman,  — 
perfume,  flavor,  and  pleasure. 

She  was  tall,  which  made  her  seem  at  first  sight  rather 
thin  ;  but  thanks  to  the  style  of  dress  that  was  then  worn, 
it  was  soon  seen  that  her  slimness  was  that  of  Jean  Goujon's 
Diana.  She  was  blond,  with  those  dark  amber  reflections 
that  we  see  in  the  hair  of  Titian's  ^lagdalen.  If  her 
head  was  dressed  with  blue  velvet  fillets  in  the  Greek 
manner  she  was  beautiful;  but  when,  after  dinner,  she 
loosened  her  hair  and  let  it  fall  over  her  shoulders,  shaking 
her  head  to  make  a  halo  of  it,  and  when  her  cheeks,  which 
had  the  freshness  of  a  camellia  and  a  peach,  outlined  thfir 
oval  against  the  tawny  hair  which  heightened  the  effect  of 
the  black  eyebrows,  the  dark-blue  eyes,  the  carmine  lips 
and  pearly  teeth,  and  when  from  each  of  her  rosy  ears 


TWO   PORTRAITS.  303 

there  hung  a  spray  of  cliamouds  like  lightning  flashes,  — 
then  indeed  she  was  superb. 

This  luxuriant  beauty  had  developed  only  within  the  last 
two  years.  That  which  she  had  given  to  her  first  lover 
(the  only  man  she  had  ever  loved)  was  the  beauty  of  the 
young  girl  full  of  hesitations  and  doubts,  who  yields,  but 
never  gives  herself.  Then,  suddenly,  she  felt  the  sap  of 
life  abounding  in  her;  her  eyes  opened  wider,  her  nostrils 
dilated,  and  she  breathed  the  love  of  that  second  youth  which 
follows  adolescence.  It  was  then  that  necessity  forced  lier 
not  to  give,  but  to  sell  herself;  and  she  did  it  with  the 
under-current  of  a  thought  that  she  would  some  day  return, 
rich  and  independent,  to  that  liberty  of  heart  and  person 
which  a  woman  desires. 

Two  or  three  times,  at  the  soirées  of  the  hôtel  de 
Thélusson  or  at  the  theatres,  she  had  noticed  Coster  de 
Saint-Victor  paying  court  to  the  handsomest  and  most 
distinguished  women  of  the  day;  and  each  time  her  heart 
seemed  to  leap  in  her  bosom,  as  if  ready  to  fly  to  him.  She 
felt  that  some  day  or  other,  even  if  she  had  to  make  the 
advances,  that  man  would  belong  to  her,  or  rather,  she 
would  belong  to  that  man.  She  was  so  fully  convinced  of 
this,  thanks  perhaps  to  an  inner  sense  which  does  some- 
times tell  us  the  secrets  of  the  future,  that  she  awaited 
events  without  much  impatience,  certain  that  some  day  the 
object  of  her  dreams  would  pass  near  enough  to  her,  or  she 
would  pass  near  enough  to  him,  to  join  their  beings  by  the 
irresistible  law  that  fastens  iron  to  magnet. 

That  evening,  when,  on  opening  her  window  to  watch  the 
tumult  in  the  street,  she  saw  the  handsome  demon  of  her 
solitar}^  thoughts  in  the  midst  of  the  struggling  crowd,  she 
had  cried  out  with  an  inward  impulse  and  almost  in  spite  of 
herself:  "Citizen  in  the  green  coat,  look  out  for  yourself!  " 


504  TLiii  FIRST   REPUBLIC*. 


XI. 

aspasia's  toilet. 

AuRÉLiE  DE  Saint-Amour  might  have  called  to  Coster  de 
Saint-Victor  by  his  name,  for  she  knew  it;  but  to  give  him 
his  name  in  the  midst  of  that  crowd  of  enemies  would  be 
giving  him  his  death. 

Saint-Victor,  on  his  part,  recognized  her  when  he  recov- 
ered his  senses;  for  she  was  already  noted,  not  only  for  her 
beauty,  but  also  for  her  wit,  —  that  indispensable  comple- 
ment to  every  beauty  that  aspires  to  reign.  The  occasion 
she  had  dreamed  came  within  her  reach,  and  she  caught  it 
as  it  passed.  Saint-Victor  thought  her  marvellously  hand- 
some; but  he  knew  it  was  impossible  to  compete  either  in 
magnificence  or  generosity  with  Barras.  Moreover,  he  knew 
all  the  shameful  mysteries  of  Parisian  life,  and  he  was 
incapable  of  sacrificing  the  position  of  a  woman  to  a  moment 
of  selfishness  or  the  allurement  of  pleasure. 

Perhaps  the  beautiful  Aspasia,  now  mistress  of  herself 
through  a  sufficient  fortune,  —  a  fortune  she  was  certain  to 
increase  through  the  celebrity  she  had  acquired,  —  per- 
haps the  beautiful  courtesan  would  have  preferred  a  man 
with  less  delicacy  and  more  passion. 

However,  in  any  case  she  wanted  to  be  beautiful,  and 
Suzette  obeyed  her  to  the  letter,  joining  the  mysteries  of 
art  to  the  marvels  of  nature,  "making  her  beautiful,"'  as 
she  said,  in  the  same  boudoir  to  which  we  introduced  our 
readers  in  a  former  chapter. 

The  modern  Aspasia,  who  was  about  to  deck  herself  in 
the  costume  of  the  ancient  Aspasia,  was  lying  on  the  same 
sofa  where  Saint-Victor  had  been  lying;  but  its  place  was 
changed.     Suzette  had  drawn  it  between  the  little  chimney- 


aspasia's  toilet.  305 

piece,  adorned  with  old  Sèvres  figurines,  and  a  psyche  in 
a  round  frame  twined  with  a  wreath  of  roses  in  Dresden 
china.  Wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  transparent  muslin,  Aurelie 
had  delivered  up  her  head  to  Suzette,  who  dressed  it  in  the 
Grecian  style,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  style  brought  about  by 
political  reminiscences  and,  above  all,  by  the  pictures  of 
David,  who  was  then  in  all  the  force  of  his  power  and  the 
jBower  of  his  fame.  A  narrow  blue  velvet  ribbon  studded 
with  diamond  stars  passed  just  above  the  forehead,  then 
again  round  the  upper  part  of  the  head,  and  disappeared 
beneath  the  chignon  ;  from  it  little  feathery  curls  escaped, 
so  light  that  the  merest  breath  set  them  waving. 

Thanks  to  the  flower  of  youth  that  bloomed  in  her  com- 
plexion, and  to  the  peachy  smoothness  of  her  transparent 
skin,  Aurelie  could  do  without  powder  and  all  the  other 
cosmetics  with  which  the  women  then,  as  to-day,  plastered 
their  faces.  In  fact,  her  actual  beauty  would  have  been 
injured  had  she  used  them,  for  the  skin  of  her  throat  had 
silvery  and  mother-of-pearl  reflections  with  rosy  tints  which 
the  slightest  cosmetic  would  have  tarnished.  Her  arms, 
which  looked  like  alabaster  warmed  by  faintly  roseate  tones, 
harmonized  delightfully  with  the  bust.  Her  whole  body, 
in  all  its  details,  seemed  a  challenge  to  the  loveliest  models 
of  antiquity  and  the  Middle  Ages  ;  except  that  Nature,  that 
wondrous  sculptor,  seemed  to  have  set  itself  the  task  of 
softening  the  severity  of  antique  art  with  the  grace  and 
morhidezza  of  modern  beauty. 

That  beauty  was  so  real  that  she  who  possessed  it  seemed 
hardly  yet  accustomed  to  it;  and  every  time  that  Suzette 
took  away  part  of  her  clothing  and  left  that  part  of  her 
body  bare,  she  smiled  upon  herself  complacently,  and  yet 
without  vanity.  Sometimes  she  would  stay  whole  hours  in 
the  warm  atmosphere  of  her  room,  lying  on  her  sofa,  like 
the  Farnèse  Hermaphrodite,  or  Titian's  Venus.  This  con- 
templation of  herself,  which  was  shared  by  Suzette,  who 
could  not  keep  her  eyes  from  her  beautiful  young  mistress, 
was  shortened  on  this  occasion  by  the  warning  of  the  clock. 

VOL.  I.— 20 


306  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Suzette  approached  her  with  a  garment  of  that  exquisitely 
transparent  tissue  which  is  woven  only  in  the  East. 

"Come,  mistress,"  said  Suzette,  "I  know  you  are  very 
beautiful,  and  no  one  knows  it  better  than  I;  but  here  's 
half-past  nine  striking.  It  is  true  that,  now  madame's  hair 
is  done,  the  rest  will  take  no  time." 

Aurelie  shook  her  shoulders  like  a  statue  which  casts  off 
a  veil,  and  murmured  two  questions,  addressed  to  that 
supreme  power  that  men  call  love  :  — 

"What  is  he  doing?     Will  he  succeed?" 

What  Coster  de  Saint-Victor  was  doing  (for  we  cannot 
suppose  that  the  beautiful  xVurelie  was  thinking  of  Barras) 
we  will  now  relate. 

They  were  giving,  as  we  have  said,  a  new  piece  at  the 
Feydeau,  —  "Toberne,  or  the  Swedish  Fisherman,"  preceded 
by  a  little  opera  in  one  act.  Barras,  when  he  left  Made- 
moiselle de  Saint-Amour,  had  only  to  cross  the  rue  des 
Colonnes.  He  reached  the  theatre  when  the  first  piece  was 
half  finished,  and  as  he  was  known  to  be  a  Conventional 
strongly  in  favor  of  the  Constitution  and  likely  to  becomt? 
one  of  the  five  Directors,  his  entrance  was  saluted  with  a 
few  groans  and  cries  of  — 

"Down  with  the  Decrees!  Down  with  the  two  thirds! 
Long  live  the  Sections!" 

The  Feydeau  was  the  theatre  par  excellence  of  reactionary 
Paris.  Still,  those  who  came  to  see  the  play  managed  to 
silence  those  who  were  inclined  for  uproar.  Cries  of 
"Down  with  interrupters!  "  prevailed  and  peace  ensued. 

The  first  play  ended  tranquilly  enough;  but  no  sooner 
had  the  curtain  fallen  than  a  3"0ung  man  jumped  on  one 
of  the  stalls,  and  pointing  to  the  bust  of  Marat  which  Avas 
a  pendant  to  that  of  Lepelletier  de  Saint -Fargeau,  cried 
out:  — 

"Citizens!  why  do  we  allow  the  bust  of  that  monster 
with  a  human  face  called  Marat  to  disgrace  these  precincts, 
when  in  the  place  which  he  usurps  we  might  see  tlie 
image  of  the  great  citizen  of  Geneva,  the  illustrious  author 


aspasia's  toilet.  307 

of  'Emile,'  of  the  'Contrat  Social,'  and  *  La  Nouvelle 
Héloise  '?  " 

The  orator  had  scarcely  finished  this  apostrophe  before 
there  burst  from  the  balconies,  galleries,  boxes,  stalls,  and 
pit  a  Babel  of  cries  :  — 

"It  is  he!  it  is  he!  it  is  Coster  Saint-Victor!  Bravo, 
Coster  !  bravo  !  " 

Coster  drew  himself  up  still  higher,  and  putting  one  foot 
on  the  back  of  the  seat,  he  continued  :  — 

"Down  with  the  Terrorists!  Down  with  Marat,  that 
sanguinary  monster  who  demanded  three  hundred  thousand 
heads!  Long  live  the  author  of  'Emile,'  the  'Contrat 
Social,  '  and  '  La  Nouvelle  Héloise  '  !  " 

Suddenly  a  voice  cried  out  :  — 

"Here  is  a  bust  of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau." 

A  pair  of  hands  in  the  pit  raised  high  the  bust  above  all 
heads.  How  came  the  bust  of  Eousseau  ojiportunely  there 
at  the  exact  moment  when  Avanted?  Nobody  knew;  but 
its  apparition  was  none  the  less  greeted  with  cries  of 
enthusiasm  :  — 

"Down  with  the  bust  of  Marat!  Long  live  Charlotte 
Corday  !    Down  with  the  Terrorists  !    Long  live  Rousseau  !  " 


308  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


xn. 


SIC    vos    NON    VOBIS. 


It  was  this  manifestation  that  Coster  de  Saint- Victor  -was 
awaiting.  He  clung  to  the  limbs  of  the  caryatides  which 
supported  the  proscenium,  put  his  foot  on  the  cornice  of  the 
balcony,  and  climbed,  assisted  and  held  up  by  a  dozen  hands, 
to  the  front  of  Barras's  box.  Barras,  who  did  not  know  what 
Coster  wanted  of  him,  and  was  not  disposed  to  regard  him 
as  one  of  his  best  friends,  rolled  back  his  chair.  Coster 
saw  the  movement. 

"Excuse  me,  citizen-general  Barras,"  he  said;  "I  don't 
want  to  disturb  you,  but  like  you  I  am  a  deputy,  deputed 
to  knock  that  bust  up  there  from  its  pedestal." 

So  saying,  and  springing  on  the  railing  of  the  proscenium 
box,  he  struck  at  Marat's  effigy  Avith  his  heavy  cane.  The 
bust  tottered  on  its  base,  and  then  fell  over  upon  the  stngR 
with  a  crash,  and  was  broken  into  a  thousand  bits,  amid 
the  loud  applause  of  the  whole  audience. 

At  the  same  time  the  same  execution  was  done  on  the 
harmless  bust  of  Lepelletier  de  Saint-Fargeau,  killed 
January  20  l>y  the  Garde  de  Paris.  The  same  acclama- 
tions hailed  its  fall.  Then  two  hands  rose  above  the  stalls 
crying  out:  — 

"Behold  the  bust  of  Voltaire!  " 

Instantly  that  bust  was  handed  from  hand  to  hand  up 
a  sort  of  Jacob's  ladder,  until  it  reached  the  now  empty 
niche.  The  bust  of  Rousseau  followed  on  the  other  side, 
and  the  two  busts  were  installed  in  the  places  just  vacated, 
amid  the  hurrahs  and  bravos  of  the  whole  theatre. 


SIC   vos   NON   VOBIS.  309 

Ail  this  while  Saint-Victor,  still  standing  on  the  railing 
of  Barras 's  box,  and  holding  by  one  hand  to  the  neck  of  a 
projecting  griffin,  waited  till  silence  was  restored.  He 
might  have  waited  long  if  he  had  not  made  a  sign  that  he 
wanted  to  speak.  On  that  the  cries  of  "Long  live  the 
author  of  '  Emile,  '  the  '  Contrat  Social,  '  *  La  Nouvelle 
Héloïse  '  !  "  and  those  of  "  Long  live  the  author  of  '  Zaïre,  ' 
*  Mahomet,  '  and  ^  La  Henriade  '  !  "  died  away,  and  every- 
body cried  out,  "Coster  wishes  to  speak!  Speak,  Coster! 
we  are  listening.  Hush  !  silence  !  "  Coster  made  another 
sign,  and  judging  that  his  voice  could  now  be  heard,  he 
cried  out  :  — 

"Citizens,  thank  the  citizen  Barras  here  present,  in  this 
box."  All  eyes  turned  to  Barras.  "The  illustrious  gen- 
eral reminds  me  that  the  same  sacrilege  we  have  just 
rebuked  here  exists  in  the  Hall  of  the  Convention.  In 
fact,  two  commemorative  pictures  of  the  death  of  Marat 
and  that  of  Lepelletier  Saint-Fargeau,  painted  by  the 
Terrorist  David,  hang  on  those  walls." 

A  cry  burst  from  every  mouth  :  — 

"  To  the  Convention  !  to  the  Convention  !  " 

"The  worthy  citizen  Barras,"  continued  Coster,  "will 
open  the  doors  for  us.     Long  live  the  citizen  Barras!  " 

And  the  whole  audience,  which  had  hissed  Barras  on  his 
arrival,  now  cried,  "Long  live  Barras!  " 

As  for  Barras  himself,  he  was  bewildered  by  the  part 
which  Saint-Victor  was  forcing  him  to  play  in  this  comedy, 
—  a  part  in  which  he  really  counted  for  nothing,  —  and 
seizing  his  hat  and  cane  and  overcoat,  he  sprang  from  the 
box,  and  down  the  stairway  to  reach  his  carriage.  But 
rapidly  as  he  had  made  the  movement.  Coster  sprang  with 
equal  rapidity  on  the  stage,  and  crying  out,  "  To  the  Con- 
vention, friends  !  "  disappeared  down  the  actor's  staircase, 
through  the  stage  entrance,  and  was  knocking  at  Aurelie's 
door  before  Barras  had  found  liis  carriage. 

Suzette  rushed  to  open  it;  Coster  slipped  in  rapidly. 

"Hide  me  in  the  boudoir,  Suzette,"  he  said.     "The  citi* 


310  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

zen  Barras  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes  to  tell  your 
mistress  that  I  am  to  eat  his  supper." 

He  had  hardly  said  the  words  before  a  carriage  was 
heard  to  stop  before  the  street  door. 

"Hey!  quick!  quick!"  cried  Suzette,  opening  the  door 
of  the  boudoir.  Saint- Victor  rushed  in.  Hasty  steps  were 
heard  on  the  staircase. 

"Come  in,  citizen-general,"  said  Suzette.  "I  thought  it 
was  you,  and  I  was  holding  the  door  open.  My  mistress 
has  been  expecting  you  for  some  time." 

"To  the  Convention!  to  the  Convention!  "  cried  a  troop 
of  young  men  who  had  followed  Barras's  carriage,  striking 
on  the  door  with  their  sticks. 

"Heavens!  what  is  it  now?"  asked  Aurelie,  appearing 
in  her  beautiful  costume,  and  full  of  anxiety. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  Barras,  "a  riot,  which  deprives 
me  of  the  pleasure  of  supping  with  you  to-night.  I  came 
to  tell  you  myself,  that  you  might  not  doubt  my  regrets." 

"Ah,  what  a  misfortune!"  cried  Aurelie;  "and  such  a 
good  supper,  too  !  " 

"  Such  a  sweet  tête-à-tête  !  "  added  Barras,  endeavoring 
to  heave  a  mournful  sigh.  "I  have  not  an  instant  to  lose. 
I  must  reach  the  Convention  before  the  crowd." 

And  faithful  to  his  civic  duties,  the  future  Director 
paused  only  to  reward  Suzette's  fidelity  by  stuffing  a  roll 
of  assignats  into  her  hand,  after  which  he  ran  rapidly 
downstairs. 

Suzette  locked  the  door  behind  him,  and  as  she  did  so 
with  a  double  turn  of  the  key  and  pushed  the  bolt,  her 
mistress  cried  out  to  her:  — 

"Suzette,  what  are  you  doing?" 

"Locking  the  door." 

"But  Saint-Victor— ?" 

"Look  behind  you,  madame,"  said  Suzette, 

Aurelie  gave  a  cry  of  surprise  and  pleasure.  Saint- 
Victor  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  boudoir,  stepping  softly 
on  tip-toe,  and  held  out  his  elbow  to  her. 


SIC   vos   NON   VOBIS.  311 

" Madame, "  he  said,  " do  me  the  honor  to  take  my  arm  to 

the  dining-room." 

"How  did  you  manage  it?     What  have  you  done?" 

"I  will  tell  you  all  that,"  said  Saint-Victor,  "while  1  eat 

the  supper  of  citizen  Barras.  " 


312  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XIII. 


THE    ELEVENTH    VENDEMIAIRE. 


One  of  the  resolutions  taken  at  the  royalist  agency  in  the 
rue  de  la  Poste  after  Cadoudal  had  left  the  house  at  the 
close  of  the  session,  as  we  related  in  a  former  chapter,  was 
to  meet  the  next  day  at  the  Theatre  of  the  Odeon. 

On  the  same  evening  a  flood  of  persons,  led  by  some  fifty 
members  of  the  jeunesse  dorée,  had  rushed,  as  we  have 
seen,  to  the  Convention  ;  but  their  leader,  Saint-Victor, 
having  disappeared  as  if  through  a  trap-door,  the  crowd 
and  the  muscadins  went  alone  to  the  Convention,  which 
Barras  had  by  this  time  warned  of  the  coming  invasion. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  art  it  is  a  great  pity  that  the 
two  pictures  against  which  the  crowd  was  excited  were 
destroyed.  One  of  them,  the  "Death  of  Marat,"  was 
David's  masterpiece. 

The  Convention,  aware  of  the  dangers  by  which  it  was 
surrounded,  and  conscious  that  at  any  moment  a  fresh 
crater  in  the  volcano  of  Paris  might  open,  declared  its 
session  permanent.  The  three  representatives,  —  Gillet, 
Aubry,  and  Delmas,  —  who,  on  the  4th  Prairial,  were 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  armed  forces,  were  now 
directed  to  take  all  measures  for  the  safety  of  the  Conven- 
tion. The  general  uneasiness  was  great,  especially  when 
it  became  known  that  a  meeting  of  armed  citizens  was  to 
take  place  the  next  day  at  the  Odeon. 

The  next  day,  October  3  (11th  Vendémiaire),  was 
devoted  by  the  Convention  to  a  funeral  function,  which 
was  arranged  to  take  place  in  its  own  hall  in  memory  of 
the  Girondins.  Several  members  urged  postponing  this 
a£Eair;  but  Tallien  declared  that  it  would  be  unworthy  of 


THE  ELEVENTH  VENDÉMIAIRE.  313 

the  Convention  not  to  attend  to  its  legitimate  duties  tran- 
quilly, even  in  the  midst  of  perils. 

The  Convention  issued  an  immediate  decree,  ordering  all 
illegal  meetings  of  electors  to  disperse.  The  night  passed 
in  tumults  of  all  kinds  in  the  remote  parts  of  Paris  ;  guns 
were  fired,  citizens  were  knocked  down;  wherever  Con- 
ventionals  and  Sectionists  met  there  was  an  interchange  of 
blows. 

The  Sections,  on  their  side,  in  virtue  of  the  right  of 
sovereignty  which  they  arrogated  to  themselves  as  the 
People,  were  also  issuing  decrees  ;  a  decree  had  fixed  the 
meeting  for  the  11th  Vendémiaire  at  the  Odeon. 

News  was  coming  in  from  all  the  towns  surrounding 
Paris  in  which  were  royalist  committees.  Insurrectionary 
movements  had  taken  place  at  Orléans,  Dreux,  Verneuil, 
and  Nonancourt.  At  Chartres  the  representative  Tellier 
had  tried  to  prevent  the  uprising,  and  having  failed  to  do 
so,  blew  out  his  brains.  The  Chouans  had  everywhere  cut 
down  the  14th-of-July  trees,  —  glorious  symbols  of  the 
triumph  of  the  People;  they  had  flung  the  statue  of  Lib- 
erty in  the  mud;  and  in  the  provinces,  as  in  Paris,  they 
knocked  down  the  patriot  citizens  when  they  met. 

While  the  Convention  deliberated  about  the  conspirators, 
the  conspirators  were  acting  against  the  Convention.  From 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  electors  had  been  making 
their  way  towards  the  Odeon,  but  only  the  most  adven- 
turous had  so  far  entered  it.  Had  these  electors  been 
counted,  their  number  would  have  been  shown  to  be  some- 
thing less  than  a  thousand.  In  the  midst  of  them  a  few 
young  men  made  a  great  noise  and  much  bravado,  going 
and  coming  with  clanking  sabres,  which  trailed  on  the 
floors  and  knocked  over  benches.  But  the  number  of 
chasseurs  and  grenadiers  collected  by  the  Sections  was  not 
over  four  hundred.  It  is  true,  however,  that  a  crowd  of 
ten  thousand  persons  were  collected  in  and  about  the  place 
of  meeting,  choking  the  entrances  to  the  theatre,  and  filling 
the  adjoining  streets. 


314  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

If  on  that  day  the  Convention,  kept  well-informed,  had 
acted  with  vigor,  it  could  have  mastered  the  insurrection; 
but  again  it  attempted  conciliatory  measures.  It  added  to 
the  decree  which  made  all  electoral  meetings  illegal  an 
article  stating  that  those  persons  who  immediately  desisted 
would  not  be  proceeded  against.  As  soon  as  this  additional 
article  was  determined  upon,  officers  of  police,  escorted  by 
six  dragoons,  started  from  the  Tuileries  where  the  Conven- 
tion held  its  sessions,  to  summon  the  persons  assembling 
at  the  meeting  to  obey  it. 

But  the  streets  were  crowded  with  inquisitive  spectators. 
These  spectators  wanted  to  know  what  the  police  and  the 
dragoons  were  about  to  do;  they  surrounded  and  hindered 
them  so  much  that  although  the  squad  left  the  palace  at 
three  o'clock  it  was  nearly  seven  before,  amid  cries,  howls, 
and  provocations  of  all  sorts,  they  reached  the  Odeon. 
From  afar,  persons  about  the  theatre  had  seen  them  coming 
on  horseback  up  the  rue  de  l'Egalité,  which  faces  the  build- 
ing. Kising  above  the  crowd,  they  looked  like  boats  tossed 
on  the  surface  of  a  raging  ocean. 

At  last,  however,  they  reached  the  square.  The  dragoons 
stationed  themselves  on  the  steps  of  the  theatre  ;  the  police, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  make  known  the  proclamation,  went 
up  on  the  portico  ;  the  torch-bearers  surrounded  them,  and 
the  reading  of  the  decree  began. 

But  no  sooner  had  the  first  words  issued  from  their  lips 
than  the  doors  of  the  theatre  opened  with  a  great  burst, 
and  the  sovereigns  (that  was  the  name  given  to  the  Sec- 
tionists)  came  out,  surrounded  by  the  electoral  guard.  They 
flung  the  police  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  portico, 
while  the  guards  marched  upon  the  six  dragoons  with  fixed 
bayonets.  Amid  the  howls  of  the  populace  the  police  dis- 
appeared, swallowed  up  in  the  crowd;  the  dragoons  dis- 
persed, the  torches  went  out,  and  from  the  midst  of  that 
mighty  chaos  arose  a  shout  of  "Long  live  the  Sectionists! 
Death  to  the  Convention  !  " 

These  cries,  prolonged  from  street  to  street,  echoed  to 


THE   ELEVENTH   VENDÉMIAIRE.  315 

the  very  Hall  of  the  Convention  itself.  While  the  victo- 
rious Sectionists  re-entered  the  Odeon,  taking,  in  their 
enthusiasm  over  this  first  success,  an  oath  not  to  lay  down 
their  arms  until  the  Tuileries  and  the  Convention  were  in 
ruins,  the  patriots  (though  they  themselves  had  cause  of 
complaint  against  the  Convention)  no  longer  doubting  the 
danger  that  threatened  Liberty,  of  which  the  Convention 
was  the  last  tabernacle,  rushed  thither  in  crowds  to  oft'er 
help  and  ask  for  arms.  Some  came  from  the  prisons;  some 
had  been  excluded  from  the  Sections;  the  greater  part 
were  officers  dismissed  from  the  service  by  the  head  of  the 
war-committee.  Aubry  joined  them.  The  Convention 
hesitated  to  accept  their  services  ;  but  Louvet,  that  inde- 
fatigable patriot  who  alone  stood  upright  amid  the  ruin 
of  parties,  —  Louvet,  who  had  long  desired  to  arm  the 
faubourgs  and  reopen  the  club  of  the  Jacobins,  insisted 
so  strongly  that  he  carried  his  point. 

Not  a  minute  was  then  lost.  All  the  unemployed  officers 
were  collected.  They  were  given  the  command  of  these 
patriots,  —  these  soldiers  without  leaders,  —  and  all,  offi- 
cers and  soldiers,  were  put  under  the  orders  of  the  brave 
General  Berruyer. 

This  arming  of  the  people  was  taking  place  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  11th  Vendémiaire,  just  as  the  news  came  of  the 
attack  on  the  police  and  the  dragoons  by  the  Sectionists. 
The  Convention  therefore  decided  on  breaking  up  the  meet- 
ing at  the  Odéon  by  armed  force. 

In  virtue  of  that  order,  General  ]Menou  sent  in  a  column 
of  regulars  and  two  pieces  of  cannon  from  the  camp  at 
Sablons.  But  when  these  troops  arrived  at  eleven  o'clock 
that  night  on  the  place  de  l'Odéon,  that  and  the  theatre 
were  both  deserted. 

The  whole  night  was  spent  in  arming  the  volunteer 
patriots,  and  in  receiving  challenge  after  challenge  from 
the  Section  Le  Peletier,  also  from  the  Sections  Butte-des- 
Moulins.  Contrat-Sociah  Comi^die-Française,  Luxembourg, 
rue  Poissonnière,  Brutus,  and  Temple. 


316  THE   FIKST   KEPUBLIC. 


XIV. 

THE   TWELFTH    VENDÉMIAIRE. 

On  the  morning  of  the  12th  Vendémiaire  the  walls  were 
covered  with  posters,  enjoining  all  National  guards  to 
report  at  their  Sections,  which  were  threatened  by  the 
Terrorists,  —  that  is  to  say,  by  the  Convention. 

At  nine  o'clock,  the  Section  Le  Peletier  declared  its 
session  permanent,  proclaimed  revolt,  and  ordered  the 
beat  to  arms  to  be  sounded  throughout  Paris.  The  Con- 
vention, thus  provoked,  did  the  same.  Two  species  of 
heralds  pervaded  the  streets.  The  air  was  full  of  those 
strange  shudderings  which  accompany  the  fever  of  great 
cities  and  are  the  symptoms  of  grave  events.  It  was  seen 
that  the  Sections  had  passed  beyond  the  line  of  rebellion, 
and  that  it  was  no  longer  a  question  of  convincing  or  con- 
ciliating them,  but  of  crushing  them.  None  of  the  great 
Revolutionary  days  had  ever  dawned  with  such  terrible 
forewarnings,  —  neither  July  14th,  August  10th,  nor  even 
September  2d. 

Toward  eleven  in  the  forenoon  it  was  felt  that  the 
moment  had  arrived,  and  the  initiative  should  be  taken. 
The  Convention,  knowing  that  the  Section  Le  Peletier  was 
the  headquarters  of  the  rebels,  resolved  to  disarm  it,  and 
ordered  General  ]\Ienou  to  march  against  it  with  a  sufifi- 
cient  body  of  troops  and  cannon. 

The  general  came  from  Sablons  and  marched  across 
Paris.  But  on  the  march  he  saw  Avhat  he  had  no  idea  of; 
that  is  to  say.  he  found  he  had  to  do  with  the  nobility,  the 
rich  bourgeoisie,  —  the  class,  in  short,  which  usually  makes 
opinion.  It  was  by  no  means  the  faubourgs,  as  he  had 
supposed,  whom  he  was  now  to  shell.     It  was  the  place 


THE    TWELFTH    VENDÉMIAIRE.  317 

Vendôme,  the  rue  Saint-llonoré,  the  boulevaitls,  the  fau- 
bourg Saint-Germain. 

ïhe  man  of  Prairial  1st  hesitated  on  the  12th  Vendé- 
miaire. He  marched,  it  is  true,  but  tardily,  slowly.  The 
Convention  had  to  send  its  representative  Laporte  to  hurry 
him.  And  yet  all  Paris  was  hanging  on  the  issue  of  this 
great  duel. 

Unhappily,  the  president  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier, 
whom  we  alrt^ady  know  from  his  visit  to  the  Convention 
and  his  conference  with  the  Chouan  general,  Cadoudal,  was 
a  man  as  rapid  in  his  decisions  as  Menou  was  weak  and 
hesitating  in  his. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  before  General 
Verdières  received  from  General  Menou  an  order  to  take 
sixty  of  the  grenadiers  of  the  Convention,  a  hundred  men 
from  the  battalion  of  the  Qise,  and  twenty  cavalry,  to  form 
a  left  column,  and  march  on  the  Section  Le  Peletier.  He 
was  enjoined  to  hold  possession  of  the  left  side  of  the  rue 
des  Filles-Saint-Tliomas  and  await  orders. 

He  had  scarcely  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the  rue 
Vivienne,  before  Morgan,  appearing  at  the  gate  of  the 
convent  of  the  Filles-Saint-Thomas,  brought  out  a  hun- 
dred grenadiers  of  the  Section  and  ordered  them  to  shoulder 
arms.  They  obeyed  without  hesitation.  Verdières  gave 
the  same  order  to  his  troops;  but  they  muttered. 

"Friends,"  cried  Morgan  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Conven- 
tion, "we  shall  not  fire  first;  but  after  the  firing  begins 
no  quarter  is  to  be  expected  from  us.  If  the  Convention 
wants  war,  it  shall  have  it." 

Verdières's  grenadiers  wanted  to  reply.  Verdières  called 
out:  — 

"  Silence  in  the  ranks  !  " 

Silence  followed.  Then  he  ordered  the  cavalry  to  out 
sabres,  and  the  infantry  to  ground  arms.  These  orders 
were  obeyed.  Meantime  Menou's  centre  column  was 
coming  up  by  the  rue  Vivienne,  and  his  right  by  the  rue 
Notre-Dame-des-Victoires. 


318  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

The  Section  was  instantly  converted  into  an  armed  force. 
At  least  a  thousand  men  issued  from  the  convent  and 
formed  before  the  portico.  Morgan,  sword  in  hand,  placed 
himself  ten  paces  in  advance  of  them. 

"Citizens,"  he  said,  addressing  the  Sectionists  under  his 
command,  "you  are  for  the  most  part  married  men,  fathers 
of  families.  I  have  therefore  a  responsibility  for  many 
lives;  and  however  much  I  may  desire  to  give  death  for 
death  to  those  tigers  of  the  Convention,  who  have  guillo- 
tined my  father  and  shot  my  brother,  I  order  you,  in  the 
name  of  your  wives  and  children,  not  to  fire  first.  But  at 
the  first  shot  fired  by  our  enemies,  —  you  see  I  stand  here 
ten  paces  in  front  of  you,  —  the  man  who  fires  that  shot 
will  die  by  my  hand." 

These  words  were  said  in  the  midst  of  profound  silence, 
for  before  uttering  them  Morgan  had  raised  his  sword 
in  sign  that  he  wished  to  speak;  so  that  neither  party, 
Sectionists  or  Conventionals,  lost  a  syllable  of  what  he 
said. 

Nothing  was  easier  than  to  reply  to  such  words  and  turn 
them  into  pure  bravado  by  a  triple  volley,  one  from  the 
right,  another  from  the  left,  the  third  from  the  rue 
Vivienne.  Exposed  as  a  triple  target,  Morgan  of  course 
would  fall  dead. 

The  amazement,  therefore,  was  great  when,  instead  of 
the  word  "  Fire  !  "  which  every  one  expected  to  hear,  fol- 
lowed by  a  treble  volley,  the  representative  Laporte  was 
seen  to  consult  with  General  Menou,  and  then  to  advance 
towards  Morgan,  while  the  general  ordered  his  men  to 
ground  arms.  That  order  was  executed  as  promptly  as  the 
other. 

But  the  amazement  was  greater  still  when,  after  exchang- 
ing a  few  words  with  Laporte,  Morgan  called  out  :  — 

"  I  am  here  only  to  fight,  and  because  T  supposed  there 
would  be  fighting.  When  it  comes  to  compliments  and 
concessions,  that  is  the  affair  of  the  vice-president.  I 
retire." 


THE   TWELFTH   VENDÉMIAIKE.  319 

Putting  his  sword  into  its  scabbard,  he  stepped  back 
and  was  lost  to  sight  among  the  Sectionists.  The  vice- 
president  took  his  place.  After  a  conference  of  ten 
minutes  between  citizens  Lalau,  Laporte,  and  Menou,  a 
movement  was  made.  Part  of  the  Sectionist  troops  turned 
round  the  convent  of  the  Filles-Saint-Thomas  and  entered 
the  rue  Montmartre;  at  the  same  time  those  of  the  Con- 
vention retired  to  the  Palais-Royal. 

But  hardly  had  the  latter  disappeared  before  the  Sec- 
tionists led  by  Morgan  reappeared,  again  shouting  with 
one  voice  :  — 

"  Down  with  the  two  thirds  !    Down  with  the  Convention  !  " 

This  shout,  starting  from  the  convent  of  the  Filles-Saint 
Thomas,  spread  almost  instantly  through  every  quarter  of 
Paris.  Two  or  three  churches  which  had  saved  their  bells 
sounded  the  tocsin.  That  sinister  clang,  unheard  in  the 
city  for  three  or  four  years,  produced  a  more  terrible  effect 
than  the  roar  of  cannon.  It  was  reaction,  — political  and 
religious  reaction,  — borne  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

It  was  eleven  at  night  when  this  terrible  sound  and 
the  news  of  the  result  of  General  Menou's  advance  was 
made  known  in  the  Convention.  The  session,  though  not 
adjourned,  was  scarcely  going  on;  but  the  deputies  now 
flocked  in,  questioning  each  other,  and  doubting  if  the 
news  were  true  that  the  positive  order  to  surround  and 
disarm  the  Section  Le  Peletier  could  have  been  evaded  and 
transformed  into  a  friendly  conversation;  the  retirement 
of  each  party  seemed  actually  impossible. 

Presently  the  news  came  that  the  Sectionists,  far  from 
retiring  to  their  own  homes,  had  returned  upon  their  steps, 
and  that  the  convent,  their  headquarters,  was  like  a  for- 
tress, from  which  they  were  defying  and  insulting  the 
Convention. 

Chenier  sprang  to  the  tribune.  Embittered  by  the 
cruel  accusation  which  followed  him  to  his  death,  — and 
beyond  it,  —  of  having,  out  of  jealousy,  allowed  his 
brother  André  to  be  guillotined,  Marie-Joseph  Chenier  was 


320  THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

always  for  the  harshest  and  most  expeditious  measures  of 
coercion. 

"Citizens,"  he  cried,  "I  cannot  believe  what  we  are 
told!  Ketreat  before  the  enemy  is  a  misfortune;  retreat 
before  rebels  is  treason.  I  desire,  before  I  leave  this 
tribune,  to  know  whether  a  majority  of  the  French  people 
is,  and  will  be,  respected;  or  whether  we  are  to  bow  our 
necks  to  the  will  of  the  Sectionists,  —  we,  who  are  the 
will  of  the  Nation!  I  demand  that  the  government  be 
required  to  instantly  give  account  to  this  Convention  of 
what  is  happening  in  Paris." 

Shouts  of  approbation  responded  to  this  appeal.  Chenier's 
motion  was  unanimously  voted. 


NIGHT   OF   TWELFTH   AND   THIRTEENTH   VENDÉMIAIRE.      321 


XV. 


THE    NIGHT    OF    THE   TWELFTH    AND    THIRTEENTH 
VENDÉMIAIRE. 

Delaunay    (d'Angers),    a   member    of    the    government, 
mounted  the  tribune,  and  replied  for  it. 

"Citizens,"  he  said,  "we  are  informed  at  this  very 
moment  that  the  Section  Le  Peletier  is  surrounded  on  all 
sides." 

Applause  broke  out;  but  in  the  midst  of  it,  a  voice 
louder  than  any  called  out  :  — 

"That  is  not  true!" 

"I  affirm,"  continued  Delaunay,  "that  the  Section  is 
surrounded." 

"  It  is  not  true  !  "  repeated  the  same  voice,  with  still 
greater  firmness.  "I  have  just  come  from  the  Section. 
Our  troops  have  withdrawn;  the  Sectionists  are  masters 
of  Paris." 

At  this  moment  a  great  noise  of  feet  and  cries  and 
vociferations  was  heard  in  the  corridors.  A  flood  of  people 
surged  into  the  hall,  terrible  and  overwhelming  as  a  rising 
tide.  It  reached  the  tribune,  a  hundred  voices  crying 
out:  — 

"To  arms!  to  arms!  We  are  betrayed!  Summon 
General  Menou  !  " 

"I  demand,"  said  Chenier  from  his  place,  and  mounting 
on  his  seat,  "I  demand  the  arrest  of  General  Menou. 
Judge  him  instantly;  if  guilty,  shoot  him  in  the  courtyard." 

Cries  of  "Arrest  General  iMenou!"  echoed  on  all  sides. 
Chenier  continued  :  — 

"I  demand  that  arms  and  ammunition  be  again  dis- 
tributed to  the  patriots,  who  shall  take  the  sacred  name  of 

VOL.    I.  —  21 


322  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  '  Battalion  of  '89  '  and  swear  to  be  killed  on  the  steps 
of  this  hall." 

Then,  as  if  they  had  been  waiting  for  this  demand,  three 
or  foar  hundred  citizens  rushed  into  the  hall,  demanding 
arms.  These  were  veterans  of  the  Revolution,  —  the  living 
history  of  the  last  six  years  ;  men  who  fought  beneath  the 
walls  of  the  Bastille,  who  attacked,  on  the  lOtli  of  August, 
the  same  château  they  were  now  demanding  the  right  to 
defend.  They  were  officers  covered  with  scars,  the  heroes 
of  Jemappes  and  Valmy,  set  aside  because  their  dazzling 
actions  were  done  by  men  obscure  in  name,  because  they 
had  beaten  the  Prussians  without  strategy,  and  the  Aus- 
trians  without  knowing  mathematics  or  how  to  spell. 
They  all  believed  that  the  aristocratic  faction  had  caused 
their  removal  from  the  army.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  reac- 
tionary Aubry  who  tore  their  swords  from  their  hands  and 
the  epaulets  from  their  shoulders. 

They  kissed  the  guns  and  sabres  that  were  given  to  them, 
and  pressed  them  to  their  hearts,  crying  out  :  — 

"  We  are  free  at  last  to  die  for  the  country  !  " 

At  that  moment  an  usher  entered,  announcing  a  deputa- 
tion from  the  Section  Le  Peletier. 

"Do  you  hear?"  cried  Delaunay  d'Angers.  "I  told  you 
the  truth  ;  they  have  come  to  accept  the  conditions  imposed 
by  Menou  and  Laporte." 

The  usher  retired  and  in  a  few  moments  returned  alone. 

"  The  head  of  the  deputation  asks  if  there  is  safety  for 
him  and  for  those  who  accompany  him,  no  matter  what 
they  have  to  say  to  the  Convention?" 

Boissy  d'Anglas  stretched  out  his  hand. 

"On  the  honor  of  the  nation,"  he  said,  "those  who  enter 
here  shall  go  out  safe  and  sound  as  they  came  in." 

The  usher  then  returned  to  those  who  had  sent  him.  A 
great  silence  fell  on  the  Assembly.  They  all  hoped  that 
this  new  parley  -would  offer  a  way  of  conciliation  out  of  the 
difficulty.  In  the  midst  of  the  silence  steps  were  heard 
approaching.  All  eyes  turned  to  the  door;  a  quiver  passed 
through  the  whole  assembled  company. 


NIGHT   OF   TWELFTH    AND    THIRTEENTH    VENDÉMIAIRE.      323 

The  head  of  the  deputation  was  the  same  young  man  who 
had  spoken  so  haughtily  to  the  Convention  the  night  before. 
The  expression  of  his  face  did  not  denote  that  he  came  to 
make  any  submission. 

"Citizen  president,"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas,  "you  have 
asked  to  be  heard,  and  we  will  listen  to  you;  you  have 
asked  for  life  and  liberty,  and  we  grant  it.     Speak  !  " 

"  Citizens,"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice, 
"my  desire  is  that  you  shall  reject  these  last  proposals  of 
the  Section  Le  Peletier,  which  I  now  bring  you,  because 
my  wish  is  to  fight.  The  happiest  day  of  my  life  will  be 
that  on  which  I  shall  enter  this  hall  with  my  feet  in  blood, 
and  fire  and  steel  in  my  hand." 

A  threatening  murmur  came  from  the  seats  of  the  Con- 
ventionals;  a  sort  of  shudder  of  amazement  was  seen  to 
pass  among  the  groups  of  patriots  gathered  in  the  corners. 

"Go  on,"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas;  "swell  your  threats  to 
insolence.  You  know  that  you  have  nothing  to  fear,  and 
that  life  and  liberty  are  guaranteed  to  you." 

"For  that  reason,"  replied  the  young  man,  "I  shall  tell 
you  simply  what  brings  me  here.  What  brings  me  here  is 
the  sacrifice  of  my  personal  vengeance  to  the  general  good, 
and  even  to  your  good.  I  did  not  think  I  had  the  right  to 
send  you  by  others  the  summons  I  now  make  to  you.  Hear 
it:  If  to-morrow,  by  daybreak,  the  walls  of  Paris  are 
not  covered  with  posters  announcing  that  the  Convention 
resigns  in  a  body,  that  Paris  and  France  are  free  to  choose 
all  their  representatives  and  not  one  third  only,  and  this 
without  condition,  we  shall  consider  war  declared,  and 
march  upon  you.  You  have  five  thousand  men;  we  have 
sixty  thousand  and  justice  on  our  side."  He  drew  a  watch 
cased  in  diamonds  from  his  pocket.  "It  is  now  a  quarter 
to  twelve  o'clock.  To-morrow,  at  mid-day,  that  is  to  say, 
in  twelve  hours  from  now,  if  Paris  has  not  received  from 
you  the  satisfaction  she  hereby  demands,  of  the  walls  which 
shelter  you  at  this  moment  there  will  not  be  left  one  stone 
upon  another,  and  fire  will  be  lighted  at  all  four  corners 


324  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

of  the  Tuileries  to  purify  the  royal  residence  for  your  stay 
in  it.     I  have  done.'' 

Cries  of  rage  and  threats  burst  from  the  throats  of  all 
present.  The  patriots,  who  had  just  obtained  their  arms, 
wanted  to  fling  themselves  on  the  insolent  orator;  but 
Boissy  d'Anglas  stretched  forth  his  hand. 

"My  word  and  yours  is  pledged,  citizens,"  he  said. 
"The  president  of  the  club  Le  Peletier  can  retire  as  he 
entered,  safe  and  sound.  That  is  how  we  keep  our  word; 
we  will  see  how  he  keeps  his." 

"Then  it  is  war!  "  cried  Morgan,  joyfully. 

"  Yes,  citizen  ;  and  civil  war,  —  the  worst  of  all  wars,  " 
replied  Boissy  d'Anglas.  "Go,  and  never  appear  here 
again;  I  will  not  again  insure  your  safety." 

Morgan  retired  with  a  smile  upon  his  lips.  He  had 
what  he  came  to  seek,  —  the  certainty  of  a  battle  on  the 
morrow. 

He  had  hardly  left  the  hall  before  a  frightful  uproar 
arose  from  the  seats  of  the  galleries  and  the  groups  of 
patriots. 

Midnight  sounded.     It  was  now  the  13th  Vendémiaire. 

Let  us  here  leave  the  Convention,  inasmuch  as  there 
are  six  or  eight  hours  before  the  struggle  begins,  and  enter 
one  of  those  mixed  salons  which  men  of  both  parties  fre- 
quented, and  where,  consequently,  the  news  was  received 
more  surely  and  rapidly  than  at  either  the  Convention  or 
the  Sections. 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BARONNE  DE  STAËL.   325 


XVI. 

THE     SALON    OF    MADAME     LA     BARONNE    DE    STAËL, 
SWEDISH    AMBASSADRESS. 

Two  thirds  of  the  way  along  the  rue  du  Bac,  between  the 
rue  de  Grenelle  and  the  rue  de  la  Planche,  rises  a  massive 
building,  which  may  still  be  recognized  by  the  four  Ionic 
columns  coupled  two  and  two,  which  support  a  heavy  stone 
balcony.  It  was  the  house  of  the  Swedish  embassy,  now 
inhabited  by  the  celebrated  Madame  de  Staël,  daughter  of 
M.  Necker,  and  wife  of  the  Baron  de  Stael-Holstein,  the 
Swedish  ambassador. 

Madame  de  Staël  is  so  well  known  that  it  is  almost 
unnecessary  to  give  her  physical  portrait;  still  we  shall 
say  a  few  words  about  her.  Born  in  1766,  Madame  de  Staël 
was  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  genius,  —  we  do  not  say  her 
beauty,  for  she  was  never  beautiful.  Passionately  admir- 
ing her  father,  —  a  second-rate  man,  whatever  may  be  said 
to  the  contrary,  —  she  had  followed  his  fortunes  and  emi- 
grated with  him,  although  the  position  of  her  husband  as 
a  foreign  ambassador  ensured  her  safety. 

But  she  soon  returned  to  Paris,  made  a  plan  for  the 
escape  of  Louis  XVI.,  and  in  1793  addressed  the  Revolu- 
tionary government  in  justification  of  the  queen  at  the 
time  of  her  trial.  The  declaration  of  war  between  Gus- 
tavus  IV.  and  France  and  Russia  was  followed  by  the 
recall  of  the  ambassador  to  Stockholm,  where  he  and  his 
wife  remained  from  the  death  of  the  queen  to  that  of 
Robespierre.  After  the  9th  Thermidor  Monsieur  de  Staël 
returned  to  France,  still  with  the  title  of  Swedish  ambas» 
sador;  and  Madame  de  Staël,  who  could  not  live  without 


326  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

a  view  of  the  gutter  of  the  rue  du  Bac  (which  sight  she 
said  she  preferred  to  that  of  Lake  Leman),  came  back  with 
him. 

They  had  hardly  returned  before  she  opened  her  salon, 
and  very  naturally  received  all  the  men  of  distinction  in 
Paris,  whether  Frenchmen  or  foreigners.  But  although 
consenting,  among  the  first,  to  the  ideas  of  1789,  whether 
it  was  that  the  march  of  events,  or  that  the  voice  of  her 
own  heart  modified  her  ideas,  she  devoted  her  whole 
strength  to  securing  the  return  of  the  é?ni(/rés,  and  asked 
so  frequently  for  the  erasing  of  their  names  from  the  pro- 
scribed lists,  particularly  the  name  of  M.  de.  Narbonne, 
that  the  famous  butcher  Legendre  denounced  her  from  the 
tribune.  Her  salon  and  that  of  Madame  Tallien  shared 
the  social  distinctions  of  Paris,  that  of  Madame  de  Staèl 
being  more  monarchical  than  constitutional,  —  that  is  to 
say,  of  a  stripe  between  that  of  the  Cordeliers  and  the 
Girondins. 

On  the  night  of  which  we  are  now  speaking,  that  is, 
during  the  night  of  the  12th  and  13th  Vendémiaire,  the 
salon  of  Madame  de  Staël  at  eleven  o'clock,  —  the  hour 
when  the  trouble  was  at  its  height  in  the  Convention,  — 
the  salon  of  Madame  de  Staël  was  crowded  with  visitors. 
The  party  was  most  brilliant.  No  one,  looking  at  the 
toilets  of  the  women  and  the  easy  bearing  of  the  men, 
could  have  believed  that  the  people  of  Paris  were  about  to 
cut  one  another's  throats.  And  yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
gayety,  all  the  wit,  which  is  never  so  keenly  aroused  in 
France  as  in  times  of  danger,  there  were  moments  when 
a  cloud  seemed  to  darken  the  assembly,  as  in  summer  a 
passing  storm  casts  its  shadow  over  fields  and  harvests. 

Every  fresh  arrival  was  received  with  exclamations  of 
curiosity  and  eager  questions,  which  proved  indubitably 
the  interest  which  all  took  in  the  situation.  For  the  time 
being  the  two  or  three  women  who,  in  Madame  de  Staél's 
salon  shared  with  her  the  honors  of  their  wit  or  their 
beauty,    were   neglected.      The   men   rushed  to  the   new- 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BARONNE  DE  STAËL.   327 

comer,  obtained  all  they  could  from  him,  and  returned  to 
their  own  circle  to  report  and  discuss  the  news.  By  a  sort 
of  tacit  agreement,  each  of  the  women  who,  by  right  of 
wit  or  beauty,  had,  as  we  have  said,  the  distinction  of 
belonging  to  this  society,  held  her  own  particular  court 
apart  from  the  others  in  the  vast  ground-floor  reception- 
rooms  of  the  Hôtel  de  Suède,  so  that,  besides  Madame  de 
Staël's  own  salon,  there  were,  that  night,  the  additional 
salons  of  Madame  Kriidener  and  Madame  Recamier. 

Madame  Kriidener  was  three  years  younger  than  Madame 
de  Staël  ;  she  was  a  Courlandaise,  born  at  Riga.  Daughter 
of  Baron  Wiftinghof,  a  rich  landowner,  she  married  at 
fourteen  Baron  Kriidener,  and  went  with  him  to  Copen- 
hagen and  to  Venice,  where  he  fulfilled  the  functions  of 
Russian  ambassador.  Separated  from  her  husband  in 
1791,  she  regained  the  liberty  relinquished  for  a  short 
time  during  her  married  life.  She  was  a  very  charming 
and  a  very  intelligent  and  witty  person,  who  could  write 
and  speak  French  perfectly.  The  only  thing  for  which 
she  was  blamed  at  this  very  unsentimental  period  was  a 
tendency  to  solitude  and  revery.  Her  melancholy,  essen- 
tially of  the  iSTorth,  made  her  seem  like  the  heroine  of  some 
ancient  Scandinavian  saga,  and  gave  her,  in  the  midst  of 
a  careless  and  joyous  world,  a  disposition  which  tended  to 
mysticism. 

Sometimes  her  friends  were  tempted  to  blame  her  for 
the  species  of  ecstasy  which  would  seize  her  suddenly  in 
the  midst  of  a  gay  party.  But  when  they  came  near  her 
at  such  moments  of  excitement  and  looked  at  her  fine  eyes 
raised  to  heaven,  they  saw  the  Saint  Teresa  in  her  soul,  and 
forgot  the  woman  of  the  world  for  the  woman  of  inspira- 
tion. It  was  said,  however,  that  those  fine  eyes,  ecstatically 
raised  to  heaven,  deigned  to  return  to  earth  so  soon  as  the 
handsome  singer  Garat  entered  the  room.  A  novel  she 
was   then    writing,    entitled   "Valérie,    or   the   Letters   of 

Gustave  de  Linard  to  Ernest  de  G ,"  was  said  to  be 

the  history  of  their  love. 


328  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

She  was  a  woman  of  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  years  of 
age,  with  the  very  lair  hair  peculiar  to  the  women  of  cold 
climates.  In  moments  of  ecstasy  her  face  had  the  rigidity 
of  marble,  to  which  the  skin,  as  white  and  smooth  as  satin, 
gave  additional  likeness.  Her  friends  —  and  she  had  many 
before  she  had  disciples  —  said  that  at  times,  when  her 
spirit  communicated  with  higher  spirits,  she  would  utter 
disconnected  words  which,  like  those  of  the  antique  oracles, 
had  a  meaning.  In  short.  ^Madame  Krûdener  was  the  pre- 
cursor of  modern  spiritualism.  In  our  day  she  would  have 
been  what  is  called  a  medium.  The  word  was  not  then 
invented,  so  they  contented  themselves  with  calling  her 
inspired. 

Madame  Recamier,  the  youngest  of  all  the  fashionable 
women  of  that  day,  was  born  at  Lyon  in  1777,  and  was 
named  Jeanne-Françoise-Julie-Adélaïde  Bernard.  She  mar- 
ried, in  1793,  Jacques-Rose  Recamier,  who  was  twenty-six 
years  older  than  herself.  His  fortune  came  from  an  im- 
mense hat-making  business  founded  by  his  father  at  Lyon. 
While  still  young  he  had  travelled  for  the  house,  though 
not  until  he  had  had  enough  classical  education  to  enable 
him  to  qiiote,  on  occasion,  both  Horace  and  Virgil.  He 
spoke  Spanish,  the  hat-business  having  frequently  taken 
him  to  Spain.  He  was  handsome,  tall,  fair,  vigorously 
strong,  easily  moved,  generous,  but  rather  frivolous,  and 
not  much  attached  to  his  friends,  to  whom,  however,  he 
never  refused  a  benefit  in  money.  One  of  his  best  friends, 
to  whom  he  had  done  many  services,  died;  lie  merely  said, 
with  a  sigh,  — 

"Another  cash  drawer  closed!  " 

Married  in  the  very  midst  of  the  Terror,  on  the  24th  of 
April,  1793.  he  went  on  his  wedding-day  to  witness  the 
executions,  as  he  had  done  the  day  before,  and  would  do 
on  the  morrow  and  all  the  succeeding  days.  He  had  seen 
the  king  die,  he  had  seen  tlie  queen  die,  he  had  seen 
Lavoisier  die,  and  the  twenty-seven  farmer-generals  and 
his  best  friend  Laporte  and,  in  short,  nearly  all  those  with 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BARONNE  DE  STAËL.    329 

whom  he  had  held  business  or  social  relations;  and  if 
asked  why  he  was  so  assiduously  present  at  the  terrible 
spectacle,  he  would  answer  :  — 

"To  get  accustomed  to  the  scaffold." 

It  was, in  fact,  by  a  miracle  that  M.  Recamier  escaped  the 
guillotine,  but  he  did  escape  it;  and  his  presence  as  super- 
numerary at  the  theatre  of  death  proved  useless  to  him. 

Was  it  this  daily  contemplation  of  the  nothingness  of 
life  that  made  him  oblivious  of  the  beauty  of  his  wife,  to 
tlie  degree  of  never  loving  her  except  as  a  father;  or  was 
it  through  some  imperfection,  with  which  capricious  Nature 
does  sometimes  afflict  its  noblest  specimens?  The  fact  that 
his  marriage  was  one  in  name  only  remains  a  mystery, 
without  being  at  any  time  a  secret. 

Nevertheless,  when  Mademoiselle  Bernard  became  his 
wife,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  she  had  just,  as  her  biographer 
tells  us,  passed  from  childhood  into  the  splendor  of  youth. 
A  supple,  elegant  figure;  shoulders  worthy  of  the  goddess 
Hebe;  a  throat  of  exquisite  shape  and  perfect  proportion; 
a  rosy  mouth;  pearly  teeth;  charming  arms,  though  rather 
thin;  chestnut  hair,  which  curled  naturall}-;  a  delicate, 
regular  nose  of  the  true  French  type;  an  incomparably 
dazzling  skin  ;  a  countenance  all  candor,  slightly  mischiev- 
ous, but  rendered  irresistibly  attractive  by  its  expression 
of  kindliness;  something  indolent  in  her  manner,  and 
withal  proud  ;  and  a  head  better  set  on  her  shoulders  than 
the  rest  of  the  world  could  show, —  that  was  the  woman  of 
whom  it  could  be  said,  as  Saint-Simon  said  of  the  Duchesse 
de  Bourgogne,  "  Her  bearing  was  that  of  a  goddess  on  the 
clouds."' 

These  separate  salons,  or  courts,  seemed  to  be  as  inde- 
pendent of  each  other  as  if  they  were  in  different  houses; 
only,  the  principal  salon,  the  one  through  which  all  the 
others  were  reached,  was  that  of  the  mistress  of  the  house. 
That  lady,  who  was  now  in  her  twenty-ninth  year,  was,  as 
we  have  said,  the  celebrated  Madame  de  Staël,  already 
known  in  politics  by  the  influence  she  had  exerted  in  get- 


« 
330  THE   FIKST    REPUBLIC. 

ting  M.  de  Narbonne  appointed  as  minister-of-war;  and  in 
literature,  by  her  letters  of  enthusiasm  about  Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau. 

She  was  not  handsome,  yet  it  was  impossible  to  pass 
near  her  without  being  aware  that  here  was  one  of  those 
powerful  organizations  which  sow  words  in  the  field  of 
thought,  as  a  laborer  casts  his  seed-corn  in  the  furrows. 
She  was  dressed  that  evening  in  a  gown  of  red  velvet, 
opening  at  the  sides  on  a  straw-colored  satin  petticoat;  a 
yellow  satin  turban  was  on  her  head,  surmounted  by  a 
bird-of -paradise  plume;  and  between  her  thick  lips,  which 
gave  to  view  a  handsome  set  of  teeth,  she  held  a  sprig  of 
heather  in  bloom.  The  nose  was  rather  coarse,  the  cheeks 
a  little  swarthy;  but  the  eyes,  forehead,  and  brows  were 
marvellously  fine.  Material  or  divine,  there  was  power 
there. 

Leaning  against  the  chimney-piece,  on  which  she  rested 
one  hand,  while  with  the  other  she  gesticulated  like  a  man, 
and  still  holding  her  heather,  from  which,  now  and  then, 
she  would  tear  off  a  blossom  with  her  teeth,  she  was  saying 
to  a  handsome  young  man,  her  ardent  adorer,  whose  fair 
curls  flowed  to  his  shoulders  and  framed  his  face  :  — 

"No,  you  are  mistaken;  I  swear  you  are  mistaken,  my 
dear  Constant.  I  am  not  against  the  Republic;  on  the 
contrary,  those  who  really  know  me  know  with  what  ardor 
I  accepted  the  principles  of  '89.  But  I  have  a  horror  of 
sansculotteism  and  vulgar  loves.  The  moment  I  saAV  that 
Liberty,  instead  of  being  the  purest  and  chastest  of  women, 
was  only  a  courtesan,  going  from  the  arms  of  Marat  to 
those  of  Danton,  and  from  the  arms  of  Danton  to  those  of 
Robespierre,  I  made  my  curtsey  to  her.  There  may  be  no 
more  princes  or  dukes  or  counts  or  marquises,  if  you  will; 
I  agree  to  all  that.  There ^'s  no  nobler  title  than  '  citizen  ' 
when  addressed  to  Cato,  or  '  citoyenne  '  when  spoken  to 
Cornelia;  but  this  thee-ing  and  thou-ing  with  my  washer- 
woman, and  supping  of  Spartan  broth  out  of  the  same 
porringer  as  my  coachman,  —  no,.  I  will  not  agree  to  that. 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BARONNE  DE  STAËL.   331 

Equality  is  a  fine  thing;  but  we  have  got  to  define  what  we 
mean  by  equality.  If  it  means  that  all  educations  should 
be  equal,  at  the  cost  of  the  State,  well  and  good  !  that  all 
men  are  equal  before  the  law,  very  good!  But  if  it  means 
that  all  French  citizens  are  of  the  same  cut  physically  and 
mentally,  that  is  not  a  proclamation  of  the  rights  of  man  ; 
it  is  the  law  of  Procrustes  !  Having  to  choose  between  the 
constitution  of  Lycurgus  and  that  of  Solon,  between  Sparta 
and  Athens,  I  choose  Athens,  and  what  is  more,  the  Athens 
of  Pericles,  and  not  of  Pisistratus." 

"  Well,  "  said  the  handsome  young  man  to  whom  she  had 
addressed  her  social  jeremiad,  and  who  was  no  other  than 
he  who  afterwards  became  the  great  Benjamin  Constant, 
"you  are  wrong,  my  dear  baroness;  you  take  Athens  in 
her  decline,  and  not  in  her  early  strength." 

"  Decline  !  Pericles  !  I  think,  on  the  contrary,  I  take  her 
in  all  her  splendor." 

"Yes;  but  remember,  madame,  that  nothing  begins  in 
splendor.  Splendor  is  the  fruit,  and  before  the  fruit  are 
buds,  leaves,  flowers.  You  reject  Pisistratus?  you  are 
wrong.  It  was  he  who  trained  the  poorer  classes  and 
paved  the  way  for  the  future  greatness  of  Athens.  As  for 
his  sons,  Hippias  and  Hipparchus,  I  give  them  up  to  you. 
But  Aclysthenes,  who  carried  the  number  of  senators  to 
five  hundred,  as  our  Convention  has  just  done,  —  it  was  he 
who  opened  the  way  to  the  grand  period  of  the  wars  against 
the  Persians.  Miltiades  vanquished  the  Persians  at  Mara- 
thon; Pichegru  has  just  beaten  the  Prussians  on  the  Rhine. 
Themistocles  annihilated  their  fleet  at  Salamis;  Moreau  has 
captured  that  of  Holland  by  a  charge  of  cavalry,  —  that 's 
an  originality,  to  boot.  The  liberty  of  Greece  issued  from 
the  struggle  which  seemed  likely  to  destroy  her,  just  as 
ours  is  issuing  from  our  struggle  with  foreign  royalties. 
That  was  how  rights  were  extended;  then  it  was  that  the 
archons  and  the  magistrates  were  chosen  from  all  classes. 
You  forget  that  ^schylus  was  the  fruit  of  that  fecund 
period.      Illuminated  by  the   divine  light   of   genius,    he 


332  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

created  Prometheus,  — that  is  to  say,  the  resistance  of  man. 
kind  to  tyranny,  —  ^Eschylus,  younger  brother  of  Homei-, 
but  who  might  have  been  his  elder." 

"Bravo!  bravo!"  said  a  voice.  "You  are  making  very 
fine  literature  upon  my  word.  But  all  the  while  they  are 
cutting  throats  in  the  quartier  Feydeau  and  the  Section  Le 
Peletier.     Listen;  don't  you  hear  the  tocsin?  " 

"Ah!  is  that  you,  Barbe-Marbois?"  said  Madame  de 
Staël,  addressing  a  man  about  forty  years  old,  very  hand- 
some, though  his  beauty  was  of  the  pompous,  vapid  kind 
which  we  see  in  courts  and  in  diplomacy,  —  a  very  honest 
man,  however,  the  son-in-law  of  William  Moore,  governor 
of  Pennsylvania.     "Where  do  you  come  from?" 

"  Straight  from  the  Convention.  " 

"  What  are  they  doing?  " 

"Arguing.  They  have  outlawed  the  Sectionists  and 
armed  the  patriots.  As  for  the  Sectionists,  you  can  hear 
them  yourself;  they  are  ringing  the  bells,  which  proves 
they  are  monarchists  in  disguise.  To-morrow  they  will 
have  their  guns,  and  there  '11  be  a  fine  uproar,  in  my 
opinion." 

"  What  else  could  you  expect?  "  said  a  man  with  straight 
hair,  hollow  temples,  livid  skin,  and  a  crooked  mouth,  ugly 
with  the  double  ugliness  of  man  and  animal.  "I  have  said 
to  them  in  the  Convention  again  and  again,  'As  long  as  you 
do  not  have  a  properly  organized  ministry  of  police  and  an 
active  police  minister,  — active  not  because  it  is  his  busi- 
ness, but  his  vocation,  — things  will  continue  to  go  to  the 
devil.'  I,  who  keep  a  dozen  fellows  in  my  pay  as  an 
amateur,  simply  because  it  amuses  me  to  play  police,  I  am 
much  better  informed  than  the  government." 

"What  do  you  know  now,  Monsieur  Fouche?"  asked 
Madame  de  Staël. 

"  Since  you  ask  me,  baroness,  I  know  that  the  Chouans 
have  been  convoked  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  that 
yesterday,  at  Lemaistre's  house  —  You  know  Lemaistre, 
baroness?" 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BAEONNE  BE  STAËL.    333 

"You  mean  the  agent  of  the  princess?" 

"Yes.  Well,  at  his  house  the  Jura  and  the  Morbihan 
shook  hands  yesterday." 

"Which  means  —  ? "  asked  Barbe-Marbois. 

"Which  means  that  Cadoudal  renewed  his  oath  of  fidelity, 
and  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine  his  oath  of  vengeance." 

The  other  salons  had  poured  into  the  first  salon,  and 
were  pressing  round  the  speakers. 

"We  know  very  well  what  Cadoudal  is,"  said  Madame  de 
Staël,  —  "  a  Chouan  who,  after  fighting  in  La  Vendée,  crossed 
the  Loire;  but  who  is  the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine?" 

"The  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine,"  replied  Fouché,  "is  a 
young  noble  from  one  of  the  first  families  in  the  Jura.  He 
is  the  second  of  three  sous.  His  father  was  guillotined, 
his  mother  died  of  grief,  his  eldest  brother  was  shot 
at  Auenheim;  and  he  has  sworn  to  avenge  his  father 
and  brother.  You  have  heard  of  the  mysterious  presi- 
dent of  the  Section  Le  Peletier,  the  famous  Morgan  who 
insulted  the  Convention  in  its  own  hall;  do  you  know 
who  he  is?" 

"No." 

"The  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine." 

"Really,  Monsieur  Fouché,"  said  Benjamin  Constant, 
"you  have  missed  your  vocation.  You  ought  not  to  be 
either  seaman,  priest,  professor,  or  deputy;  you  ought  to 
be  minister  of  police." 

"And  if  I  were,"  said  Fouché,  "Paris  would  be  far  more 
tranquil  than  it  is  at  this  moment.  I  ask  you  if  it  is  n't 
actually  absurd  to  give  way  to  the  Sections?  Menou  ought 
to  be  shot." 

"Citizen,"  said  Madame  Krïidener,  who  affected  repub- 
lican forms,  "here  comes  citizen  Garat;  perhaps  he  brings 
some  news.     Garat,  do  you  know  anything?" 

She  drew  into  the  circle  a  man  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
dressed  with  great  elegance. 

"  He  knows  that  two  quavers  make  a  crotchet,  "  said  the 
satirical  voice  of  Benjamin  Constant. 


334  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Garat  rose  on  the  tips  of  his  toes  to  discover  the  person 
who  had  made  the  speech.  He  was  very  strong  on  quavers, 
^a  surprising  singer,  and  also  one  of  the  most  perfect 
Incroyables  which  the  witty  pencil  of  Horace  Vernet  has . 
preserved  to  us.  He  was  a  nephew  of  the  Conventional 
Garat  who  read  to  Louis  XVI.  his  death  sentence,  weeping. 
Son  of  a  distinguished  lawyer,  it  was  his  father's  wish  to 
educate  him  for  the  bar;  but  Nature  made  him  a  singer, 
and  a  marvellous  tenor  singer,  too.  An  Italian,  Lamberti, 
gave  him,  conjointly  with  François  Beck,  director  of  the 
Bordeaux  theatre,  lessons  in  music,  which  so  inspired  the 
youth  that  when  he  went  to  Paris  to  pursue  his  law  studies, 
he  took  a  singing  course  instead,  on  which  his  father 
stopped  his  allowance.  The  Comte  d'Artois  then  made 
him  his  private  secretary,  and  asked  the  queen,  Marie- 
Antoinette,  to  hear  him;  after  that  he  was  at  once  admitted 
to  her  select  concerts. 

Garat  was  completely  alienated  from  his  father;  for 
nothing  alienates  sons  from  fathers  more  than  the  with- 
drawal of  an  allowance.  The  Comte  d'Artois  was  going 
to  Bordeaux,  and  proposed  to  take  Garat  with  him.  The 
latter  hesitated  a  moment;  then  the  desire  to  let  his  father 
see  him  in  this  new  position  carried  the  day.  At  Bor- 
deaux he  met  his  old  master  Beck,  and  the  idea  came  into 
his  head  to  arrange  a  concert  for  his  own  benefit.  The 
curiosity  to  hear  a  compatriot  who  had  made  some  noise 
in  Paris  brought  all  the  inhabitants.  The  receipts  were 
enormous,  and  Garat's  success  such  that  his  father,  who 
was  present,  left  his  seat  and  went  up  and  kissed  him. 
On  this  amends,  coram,  populo,  Garat  forgave  his  parent. 

Until  the  Revolution,  Garat  remained  an  amateur;  but 
the  loss  of  his  property  made  him  an  artist.  In  1793  he 
tried  to  go  to  England,  but  his  ship  was  blown  back,  and 
made  the  port  of  Hamburg.  Seven  or  eight  concerts  given 
with  great  success  enabled  him  to  return  to  France  with 
a  thousand  louis,  each  of  which  was  then  worth  seven  or 
eight  thousand  francs  in  assignats.     It  was  on  this  return 


THE  SALON  OF  MME.  LA  BARONNE  DE  STAËL.    335 

that  he  met  Madame  Kriidener  and  became  intimate  with 
her. 

The  Thermidorian  reaction  adopted  Garat,  and  at  the 
epoch  which  we  are  now  relating  there  was  no  grand  con- 
cert, first  representation,  or  elegant  salon,  where  Garat  did 
not  appear  among  the  artists,  singers,  or  invited  guests. 
This  great  good  fortune  made  him,  as  we  have  intimated, 
very  sensitive.  It  was  not  surprising,  therefore,  that  he 
rose  on  tiptoe  to  discover  the  person  who  had  limited  his 
knowledge  to  that  undeniable  rule  of  music,  that  two 
quavers  were  equal  to  one  crotchet.  That  person  was  Ben- 
jamin Constant,  another  Incroyable,  who  was  not  less  sus- 
ceptible than  Garat  on  points  of  honor. 

"Don't  look  any  farther,  citizen,"  he  said.  "It  was  I 
who  advanced  that  rash  opinion.  If  you  bring  any  news, 
tell  us." 

Garat  clasped  the  hand  that  Constant  held  out  to  him, 
frankly. 

"Faith,  no  I  don't,"  he  said.  "I  have  just  left  Clery's; 
my  carriage  could  not  get  over  the  Pont  Neuf,  which  is 
guarded.  I  was  obliged  to  keep  along  the  quays,  Avhere  the 
drums  are  making  a  fiendish  noise.  I  came  over  the  Pont 
de  l'Égalité.  It  is  raining  in  torrents.  Mesdames  Todi 
and  Mara  sang  two  or  three  pieces  of  Gluck  and  Cimarosa 
delightfully." 

"What  did  I  tell  you?  "  murmured  Benjamin  Constant. 

"But  that's  not  the  roll  of  drums  that  we  hear,"  said 
a  voice. 

"Yes  it  is,"  said  Garat;  "but  the  drums  are  slacked  by 
the  rain.  There  's  nothing  more  lugubrious  than  the  sound 
of  wet  drums." 

"Ah,  here  comes  Boissy  d'Anglas!"  cried  Madame  de 
Staël;  "probably  straight  from  the  Convention,  unless  he 
has  given  in  his  resignation  —  " 

"Yes,  baroness,  you  are  right,"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas; 
"I  come  straight  from  the  Convention,  and  I  wish  I  could 
give  you  good  news." 


336  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"What!  "  cried  Barbe-Marbois,  "another  Prairial  ?  " 

"Would  it  were  nothing  worse!  "  replied  Boissy  d'Anglas. 

"What  is  it,  then?" 

"  Either  I  am  much  mistaken,  or  Paris  will  be  in  flames 
to-morrow.  This  time  it  is  really  civil  war.  The  Section 
Le  Peletier  has  replied  to  our  last  summons:  'The  Con- 
vention has  five  thousand  men;  the  Sections  have  sixty 
thousand.  We  give  the  Convention  till  daybreak  to  vacate 
their  places;  if  they  do  not,  we  will  drive  them  out.'  " 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do,  gentlemen?"  said  Madame 
Recamier,  in  her  gentle,  winning  voice. 

"Madame,"  said  Boissy  d'Anglas,  "we  expect  to  do  as 
the  Eoman  senators  did  when  the  Gauls  invaded  the 
Capitol, — die  on  our  seats." 

"I  should  like  to  see  that,"  said  Monsieur  Hecamier,  in 
his  cool  way.  "  I  have  seen  the  massacre  of  the  Conven- 
tion in  detail,  and  I  am  curious  to  see  it  en  masse." 

"Come  to-morrow  between  twelve  and  one  o'clock," 
replied  Boissy  d'Anglas,  with  equal  coolness;  "that  is 
about  the  time  the  affair  will  begin." 

"No,  it  will  not,"  said  a  new  arrival.  "You  will  not 
have  the  glory  oi'  martyrdom;  you  are  saved." 

"Come,  come,  no  joking,  Saint- Victor,"  said  Madame  de 
Staël. 

"Madame,  I  never  joke,"  said  Coster  de  Saint-Victor, 
bowing,  and  including  in  his  bow  the  Baronne  de  Staël, 
the  Baroness  Krudener,  Madame  Recamier,  and  the  other 
women  present. 

"Well,  tell  us  what  new  thing  has  happened.  Why 
do  you  believe  in  the  general  safety?"  asked  Benjamin 
Constant. 

"Because  on  the  proposition  of  citizen  Merlin  (of  Douai), 
the  National  Convention  has  just  decreed  that  the  general 
of  brigade  Barras  shall  take  command  of  the  armed  forces, 
—  in  memory  of  Thermidor.  He  is  very  tall;  he  has  a 
strong  voice.  He  can't  make  long  speeches,  that's  true; 
but  he  excels  in  improvising  vigorous  and  vehement  sen- 


THE   SALON   OF   MME.   LA   BARONNE   DE   STAËL.        337 

tenees.  If  General  Barras  defends  the  Convention,  you 
may  be  quite  sure  the  Convention  is  saved.  And  now  that 
I  have  accomplished  a  duty,  Madame  la  baronne,  in  giving 
you  this  information,  which  must  reassure  you  and  these 
ladies,  I  take  my  leave  to  prepare  myself." 

"For  what?"  asked  Madame  de  Staël. 

"For  to-morrow's  fighting,  Madame  la  baronne,  and  with 
all  my  heart,  I  assure  you." 

"  Why  !  are  you  royalist.  Coster?  " 

"  Most  certainly  ;  that 's  the  party  of  the  prettiest  women. 
And  then  —  and  then  —  I  have  other  reasons  which  are 
known  to  me  alone." 

Bowing  a  second  time  with  his  usual  easy  grace,  he  went 
away,  leaving  those  behind  him  to  discuss  his  news,  which, 
truth  to  tell,  did  not  reassure  every  one,  in  spite  of  Saint- 
Victor's  remarks. 

But  as  the  sound  of  the  tocsin  redoubled,  and  the  drums 
did  not  cease  to  beat,  or  the  rain  to  fall,  and  as  there  was 
no  chance  after  that  communication  of  obtaining  further 
news,  and  as,  moreover,  four  o'clock  was  now  chiming  from 
a  bronze  clock  on  the  fireplace,  representing  Marins  on  the 
ruins  of  Carthage,  the  whole  company  called  for  their 
carriages  and  withdrew,  hiding  a  real  anxiety  under  a  false 
pretence  of  safety. 

TOL.  I. — 22 


338  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XVII. 

THE   HÔTEL    OF    THE   BIGHTS    OF    MAN. 

As  Saint-Victor  said,  Barras  had  been  appointed,  at  one  in 
the  morning,  commander-in-chief  of  the  armed  forces  of 
Paris  and  the  interior.  All  military  and  civil  authorities 
were  enjoined  to  obey  him. 

This  choice  did  not  deserve  the  derisive  tone  in  which 
Saint-Victor  had  announced  it.  Barras  was  brave,  cool, 
wholly  devoted  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  he  had  given 
at  Toulon  irrefutable  proof  of  his  courage  and  patriotism. 
He  did  not  conceal  from  himself  the  danger  of  his  situa- 
tion, or  the  terrible  responsibility  that  now  rested  on  his 
shoulders.  Nevertheless,  he  was  perfectly  calm.  He  knew 
of  an  auxiliary  at  this  crisis,  —  a  man  unknown  to  others, 
but  on  whom  he  was  certain  he  could  rely. 

Barras  left  the  Tuileries  the  moment  his  appointment 
was  made.  He  wrapped  himself  in  a  large  loose  coat,  the 
color  of  the  walls,  hesitated  an  instant  whether  to  take  a 
carriage;  then,  reflecting  that  a  vehicle  might  be  stopped, 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  pair  of  pistols,  slipped  them 
through  his  belt,  which  was  hidden  beneath  the  coat,  and 
left  the  Tuileries  by  the  Echelles  wicket.  Thence  he  entered 
the  rue  Tavernier,  skirted  the  Palais-Royal,  and  followed 
the  rue  Neuve-des-Petits-Champs  for  a  moment  until  he 
reached  the  turn  into  the  rue  des  Fossés-Montmartre. 

It  was  raining  in  torrents.  All  was  fearfully  disor- 
ganized, and  the  nature  of  that  disorganization  Barras 
knew  but  too  well.  He  knew  that  the  field  artillery  was 
still  in  the  camp  at  Sablons,  guarded  by  only  a  hundred 
and  fifty  men.     He  knew  that  there  were  but  eighty  thou- 


THE   HOTEL    OF   THE   RIGHTS    OF   MAN.  339 

sand  cartridges  in  store,  no  provisions,  and  no  brandy. 
He  knew  that  communication  with  headquarters  (which 
were  on  the  boulevard  des  Capucines)  was  cut  off  by  the 
Sectionists  of  the  club  Le  Peletier,  who  had  pushed  their 
outposts  as  far  forward  as  the  place  Vendôme  and  the 
rue  Saint-Pierre-Montmartre.  He  knew,  too,  the  haughty 
exasperation  of  the  Sectionists,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
publicly  raised  the  standard  of  revolt.  The  expedition  of 
the  previous  evening,  so  ill-directed  by  Menou,  and  so 
vigorously  received  by  Morgan,  had  doubled  their  material 
force  and  made  their  moral  force  of  tenfold  value. 

On  all  sides  it  was  said  that  this  Section,  surrounded  by 
thirty  thousand  Conventionals,  had  obliged  its  adversaries 
by  its  courage  and  its  able  strategy  to  make  a  mortifying 
retreat.  Morgan's  audacity  in  placing  himself  between 
the  lines,  his  grand  air,  and  the  haughtiness  with  which 
he  apostrophized  General  Menou  and  the  deputy  Laporte 
were  on  every  tongue.  People  said  he  was  a  great,  a  very 
great  personage,  who  had  returned  only  four  days  earlier 
from  emigration  with  letters  from  the  royalist  committee 
in  London  to  the  royalist  committee  in  Paris. 

The  Convention  was  no  longer  hated;  it  was  now  despised. 
What  was  there,  indeed,  to  fear  from  it?  All  the  Sections, 
encouraged  by  its  weakness,  had  united  federally  during 
the  nights  of  the  11th  and  12th,  and  were  sending  detach- 
ments to  the  support  of  the  mother-Section.  They  consid- 
ered the  National  Convention  as  annihilated,  and  they  sang 
the  De  profundis  over  the  corpse  of  the  poor  deceased. 

Therefore,  as  Barras  made  his  way  along  the  streets  he 
met  these  detachments  at  every  turn,  hurrying  toward  the 
Section  Le  Peletier.  They  called  to  him  as  they  passed, 
"Qui  vive?"  to  which  he  responded,  "Sectionist."  At 
every  step  he  was  met  by  drums  lamentably  beating  the 
call  to  arms  on  the  sodden  skins  of  their  instruments,  the 
sinister,  lugubrious  sounds  seeming  to  accompany  a  funeral 
procession.  Men  glided  along  the  streets  like  shadows, 
rapping  on  the  doors,  calling  the  citizens  by  name,  and 


340  THE    FIRST    KErUBLIC. 

conjuring  them  to  arm  themselves  and  rally  to  the  Section, 
in  defence  of  their  wives  and  children^  whom  the  Terror- 
ists had  sworn  to  destroy. 

Perhaps  in  broad  daylight  these  manœuvres  would  have 
had  less  influence.  But  the  mystery  of  actions  done  in 
darkness;  these  entreaties  uttered  with  bated  breath,  as 
though  the  assassins  were  at  hand  to  hear  them;  that 
lugubrious  and  incessant  groaning  of  the  drums;  the  clang 
of  bells  bursting,  from  time  to  time,  suddenly  on  the  air, 
—  all  sent  a  nameless  dread  throughout  the  city,  warn- 
ing the  inhabitants  that  some  danger,  still  indefinite,  but 
terrible,  hovered  over  them. 

Barras  saw  and  heard  all  that.  It  was  no  longer  a  mere 
report  made  to  him  on  the  state  of  Paris  ;  it  was  the  state 
itself  which  he  touched  with  his  finger.  So,  after  leaving 
the  rue  Neuve-des-Petits-Champs,  he  hastened  his  steps, 
crossed,  almost  at  a  run,  the  place  des  Victoires,  and  then, 
gliding  along  the  houses  of  the  rue  des-Fosses-Montmartre, 
he  reached  the  door  of  a  small  hôtel,  known  as  that  of 
"The  Eights  of  Man." 

There  he  stopped,  made  a  step  backward  to  read  by  the 
dim  light  of  a  hanging  lamp  the  sign  of  which  he  was  in 
search,  after  which  he  advanced  to  the  door,  and  rapped 
vigorously  with  the  knocker  of  it. 

A  watchman  was  sitting  up,  and  as  he  probably  meas- 
ured the  importance  of  the  man  who  knocked  by  the  manner 
of  his  knocking,  he  did  not  keep  him  waiting. 

The  door  opened  cautiously;  Barras  slipped  through,  and 
bolted  it  behind  him.  Then,  without  waiting  for  the 
watchman  to  question  him,  he  said  :  — 

"Citizen  Bonaparte  lives  here,  does  he  not?" 

"Yes,  citizen." 

"Is  he  in?" 

"He  came  in  about  an  hour  ago." 

"Where  is  his  room?" 

"Fourth  floor,  end  of  the  corridor,  number  47." 

"To  right  or  left?" 


THE    HÔTEL   OF   THE    RIGHTS    OF   MAN.  341 

"Left." 

"Thank  you." 

Barras  sprang  rapidly  up  the  four  flights  of  stairs,  took 
the  left-hand  corridor,  and  stopped  before  the  door  of 
number  47. 

He  gave  three  raps. 

"  Come  in  !  "  said  a  curt  voice,  that  seemed  made  to 
command. 

Barras  turned  the  lock  and  entered.  He  found  himself 
in  a  chamber  furnished  with  a  bed  without  curtains,  two 
tables,  —  one  small,  one  large,  —  four  chairs,  and  a  terres- 
trial globe.    A  sabre  and  a  pair  of  pistols  hung  on  the  wall. 

At  the  table  sat  a  young  man  completely  dressed,  except 
for  his  uniform  coat,  which  was  thrown  across  a  chair,  who 
was  studying  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  a  map  of  Paris.  The 
noise  of  the  closing  door  made  him  half  turn  round  to  see 
what  unexpected  visitor  was  there  at  such  an  hour.  Placed 
as  he  was,  the  light  fell  on  three  quarters  of  his  face,  leav- 
ing the  rest  in  shadow. 

He  was  a  young  man  about  twenty-six  years  of  age,  with 
an  olive  skin  slightly  fairer  about  the  temples  and  fore- 
head, and  straight  black  hair  parted  in  a  line  along  the 
middle  of  his  head,  and  falling  below  the  ears.  His  eagle 
eyes,  his  straight  nose,  his  vigorously  cut  chin,  his  lower 
jaw,  enlarging  as  it  reached  the  ears,  left  no  doubt  as  to  his 
aptitudes.  He  was  a  warrior,  and  belonged  to  a  conquering 
race. 

Seen  thus,  lighted  in  this  way,  his  face  had  something 
the  look  of  a  bronze  medal.  His  extreme  thinness  made 
the  whole  bony  structure  visible. 


342  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 


XVIII. 


CITIZEX    BONAPARTE. 


Barras  advanced  into  the  circle  of  light  projected  by  the 
lamp.     Not  until  then  did  the  young  man  recognize  him. 

"Ah!  is  it  you,  citizen  Barras?"  he  said,  without  rising. 

Barras  shook  himself,  for  he  was  wet  from  head  to  foot, 
and  threw  his  streaming  hat  upon  a  chair.  The  young  man 
kept  his  eye  upon  him. 

"Yes,  it  is  I,  citizen  Bonaparte,'"  he  replied. 

"  What  wind  has  blown  you  at  this  hour  into  the  cell  of 
a  poor  shelved  soldier,  —  southeast  or  northwest?  " 

"  Northwest,  my  dear  Bonaparte  ;  and  a  violent  wind,  too." 

The  young  man  laughed;  but  the  laugh  was  harsh  and 
strident.  It  disclosed  two  rows  of  delicate,  small  teeth, 
sharp  and  white. 

"I  know  something  of  it,"  he  said.  "I  have  made  the 
round  of  Paris  to-night.'" 

"What  is  your  opinion?" 

"  My  opinion  is  that,  as  the  Section  Le  Peletier  has  threat- 
ened the  Convention,  the  storm  will  break  to-morrow." 

"What  are  you  doing  there?" 

The  young  man  rose  for  the  first  time,  and  laying  the 
tip  of  his  forefinger  on  the  plan  of  Paris,  he  said  :  — 

"I  am  amusing  myself  by  considering  how,  if  I  were 
general  of  Paris  in  place  of  that  booby  Menou,  I  should 
proceed  to  put  an  end  to  those  chatterers." 

"Well,  how  would  you  do  it?"  asked  Barras,  smiling. 

"  I  should  try  to  get  a  dozen  cannon  which  would  chatter 
louder  than  they." 

"  By  the  bye,  did  n't  you  tell  me,  one  day  at  Toulon,  that 
you  witnessed  from  the  terrace  on  the  water  side  the  riot 
of  June  20th  ?  " 


CITIZEN    BONAPARTE.  343 

The  young  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptuously. 

"Yes,"  he  said;  *'I  saw  your  poor  King  Louis  XVI,  put 
on  the  bonnet  rouge,  which  did  not  keep  his  head  from 
coming  off,  but  made  it  fall  dishonored.  I  said  to  Bour- 
rienne,  who  happened  to  be  with  me,  *  How  came  they  ever 
to  let  that  rabble  get  into  the  palace?  They  ought  to 
have  swept  down  four  or  five  hundred  with- cannon;  the 
rest  would  have  run.'  " 

"Unhappily,"  said  Barras,  "it  is  not  four  or  five  hundred 
we  have  to  sweep  down  to-day,  but  four  or  five  thousand." 

The  young  man  made  another  contemptuous  sign,  this 
time  with  his  lips. 

"Difference  in  figures,  that's  all,"  he  replied.  "What 
of  that,  if  the  result  is  the  same?     The  rest  is  only  detail." 

"  So  you  were  in  a  fair  way  to  beat  the  insurgents  when  I 
came  in?  " 

"I  was  trying  to." 

"Have  you  made  your  plan?" 

"Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

"It  depends  on  circumstances.  How  many  soldiers  can 
the  Convention  dispose  of?  " 

"Five  or  six  thousand,  including  the  sacred  battalion  of 
patriots." 

"With  that  number  I  warn  you  you  can't  make  war 
against  forty -five  or  fifty  thousand  men." 

"Would  you  evacuate  Paris?" 

"No;  but  I  would  make  the  Convention  an  entrenched 
camp.  I  should  await  the  attack  of  the  Sections,  and  blow 
them  to  bits  in  the  rue  Saint-Honore,  on  the  place  du  Palais - 
Eoyal,  the  quays,  and  the  bridges." 

"Very  good;  I  adopt  your  plan,"  said  Barras.  "Will 
you  undertake  to  execute  it?  " 

"I?" 

"Yes,  you." 

"In  what  capacity?" 

"That  of  second  in  command  of  the  interior." 


344  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"  Who  is  the  commander-in-chief?  " 

"The  general-in-chief ? " 

"Yes." 

"Citizen  Barras." 

"I  accept,"  said  the  young  man,  holding  out  his  hand; 
"  but  on  one  condition  —  " 

"You  make  conditions,  do  you?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Say  on." 

"  If  we  succeed,  if  to-morrow  night  order  reigns,  and  if 
it  is  decided  to  make  war  seriously  against  Austria,  can  I 
count  upon  you?" 

"If  we  succeed  to-morrow,  I  will,  in  the  first  place,  leave 
you  all  the  honors  of  the  day,  and  I  will  ask  for  you  the 
command-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine,  or  the  Army 
of  the  Moselle  —  " 

Bonaparte  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  not  going,"  he  said,  "to  either  Holland  or 
Germany." 

''Why  not?" 

"  There  is  nothing  to  do  there." 

"Where  do  you  want  to  go?" 

"  Italy.  It  is  only  in  Italy,  on  the  battle-fields  of  Han- 
nibal and  Marius  and  Caesar,  that  there  is  anything  to  do." 

"Well  then,  is  war  is  made  in  Italy,  you  shall  make  it; 
I  give  you  my  word  of  honor." 

"  Thank  you.  Now  about  to-morrow  ;  there  is  no  time 
to  lose." 

Barras  pulled  out  his  watch, 

"I  should  think  not,  indeed!"  he  said.  "It  is  three  in 
the  morning  now." 

"How  many  cannon  have  you  at  the  Tuileries?" 

"Six  pieces  of  four,  but  no  gunners." 

"They  can  be  found;  flesh  is  easier  to  get  than  iron. 
How  many  muskets?  " 

"Eighty  thousand  at  the  most." 

"Enough  to  kill   eighty  men   supposing  one   shot  in  a 


CITIZEN   BONAPARTE.  345 

thousand  tells.  Happily  we  have  three  hours  of  darkness 
still.  We  must  send  out  to  Sablons  for  all  the  pieces  they 
have  there, —  in  the  first  place,  so  that  the  insurgents  sha'n't 
get  them,  and  in  the  next  place  to  have  them  ourselves. 
Besides  this,  we  must  draft  gunners  from  the  gendarmerie 
and  the  battalion  of  '89  to  serve  the  pieces;  next,  bring 
ammunition  from  Meudon  and  Marly  in  large  quantities; 
and  thirdly,  find  officers  on  whom  we  can  rely." 

"  In  the  sacred  battalion  there  are  men  who,  like  you  and 
me,  have  been  shelved  by  Aubry." 

"Good!  those  men  are  not  thinkers;  they  are  doers. 
That  is  just  what  we  want."' 

And  the  young  officer  rose,  buckled  on  his  sabre,  buttoned 
his  coat,  and  put  out  his  lamp,  muttering,  — 

"0  Fortune!  Fortune!  do  I  grasp  thee?" 

The  two  men  went  downstairs,  and  took  their  way  to  the 
Convention.  Barras  noticed  that  the  young  man  did  not 
take  the  key  of  his  chamber  witli  him,  which  proved  that 
he  had  not  much  that  was  worth  stealing  in  it. 

Five  hours  later,  that  is  to  say  at  eight  in  the  morning, 
the  artillery  at  the  camp  of  Sablons  had  filed  into  Paris. 
Shells  were  being  cast  at  Meudon.  Cannon  had  been  placed 
at  all  the  issues  from  the  insurgent  quarters,  and  masked 
batteries  were  placed,  in  case  the  issues  were  forced.  Two 
pieces  of  eight  and  two  howitzers  were  placed  as  a  battery 
on  the  place  Carrousel,  as  much  to  follow  the  columns  as 
to  blow  out  the  windows  of  the  adjoining  houses  from  which 
the  insurgents  might  fire  into  the  Square. 

General  Verdier  commanded  at  the  Tuileries;  in  case  of 
siege  the  Convention  and  its  five  thousand  men  were  pro- 
visioned for  several  days.  The  artillery  and  the  troops 
were  distributed  in  the  neighborhood,  in  the  cul-de-sac  du 
Dauphin,  in  the  rue  de  Rohan  and  Saint-Nicaise,  in  the 
Palais-Royal,  the  place  de  la  Révolution,  and  on  the  place 
Vendôme.  A  small  body  of  cavalry  and  two  thousand 
infantry  were  held  in  reserve  in  the  Carrousel,  and  the 
garden  of  the  Tuileries. 


346  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Thus,  the  great  National  Convention  of  France,  which 
had  overthrown  a  monarchy  of  eight  centuries,  shaken  all 
thrones,  made  Europe  tremble,  driven  the  English  from 
Holland,  the  Prussians  and  Austrians  from  Champagne 
and  Alsace,  repelled  Spain  two  hundred  and  eighty  miles 
back  of  the  Pyrenees,  crushed  the  two  Vendees,  —  this 
great  National  Convention  of  France,  which  had  reunited 
with  France  Nice,  Savoie,  Belgium,  and  Luxemburg,  whose 
armies,  overflowing  the  Rhine  like  a  torrent,  were  even 
then  threatening  to  pursue  the  eagle  of  the  house  of  Haps- 
burg  to  the  gates  of  Vienna, — this  great  Convention  pos- 
sessed no  more  of  Paris  than  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine, 
from  the  rue  Dauphine  to  rue  du  Bac;  and  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river  from  the  place  de  la  Révolution  [place 
de  la  Concorde]  to  the  place  des  Victoires,  with  less 
than  five  thousand  men  and  an  almost  unknown  general 
to  defend  it. 


CITIZEN    GARAT.  347 


XIX. 


CITIZEN    GARAT. 


At  several  points,  }>articularly  on  the  Pont-Neuf,  the 
sentries  of  the  Sections  and  those  of  the  Convention  came 
so  near  to  each  other  that  they  conversed.  A  few  skir- 
mishes of  no  importance  took  place  during  the  morning. 
The  Section  Poissonnière  stopped  the  artillery  and  the  men 
sent  to  support  the  Section  of  tlie  Quinze-Vingts.  That 
of  the  Mont-Blanc  captured  a  convoy  of  provisions  on  its 
way  to  tlie  Tuileries.  A  detachment  of  the  Section  Le 
Peletier  took  possession  of  the  Bank  of  France.  And, 
finally,  Morgan,  with  live  hundred  men,  all  emigres  or 
Chouans,  all  wearing  collars  to  their  coats  and  the  green 
pompon,  advanced  to  the  Pont-Neuf,  while  the  Section  of 
the  Comédie-Française  marched  down  by  the  rue  Dauphine. 

Toward  four  o'clock  m  the  afternoon  nearly  fifty  thou- 
sand men  surrounded  the  Convention.  The  air  seemed  full 
of  the  hot  exhalations  of  angry  breaths  and  furious  threat- 
enings.  During  the  day  the  Conventionals  had  attempted 
several  parleys  with  the  Sectionists.  Both  sides  were 
sounding  each  other.  About  mid-day  the  representative 
Garat  was  sent  to  carry  a  message  from  the  Convention  to 
the  Section  of  the  Indivisibility.  He  took  an  escort  of 
thirty  troopers,  half  dragoons,  half  chasseurs.  The  bat- 
talions of  the  Museum  and  the  French  Guards,  which  were 
stationed  round  the  Convention  in  the  court  of  the  Louvre, 
presented  arms  to  him. 

As  for  the  Pont-Neuf,  it  was  guarded  by  the  Conven- 
tionals commanded  by  the  same  General  Carteaux  who  had 
had  Bonaparte  under  his  orders  at  Toulon,  and  Avas  now 
not  a  little  astonished  to  find  himself  under  Bonaparte's 


348  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

orders  in  Paris.  At  the  Pont  de  Change,  Garat  found  a 
battalion  of  Sectionists  who  stopped  him.  But  Garat  was 
a  man  of  action;  he  took  a  pistol  from  its  holster  and 
ordered  his  troopers  to  draw  their  sabres.  At  the  sight 
of  pistols  and  sabres  the  Sectionists  allowed  the  little  body 
to  pass. 

Garat' s  mission  was  to  Avin  over  the  Section  of  the 
Indivisibility  to  the  Convention.  But,  in  spite  of  his 
persuasions  it  persisted  in  maintaining  its  neutrality. 
From  there  Garat  went  to  the  battalions  of  Montreuil  and 
Popineourt,  to  ascertain  their  intentions.  This  errand 
carried  him  along  toward  the  faubourg.  At  the  opening 
of  the  main  street  he  found  the  battalion  of  Montreuil 
under  arms.  Xo  sooner  was  he  recognized  than  the  whole 
battalion  shouted  with  one  voice  :  — 

"  Long  live  the  Convention  !  " 

Garat  wished  to  take  it  back  with  him;  but  it  preferred 
to  wait  for  the  battalion  Popineourt,  which  had  also 
declared  for  the  Convention.  Just  then  Garat  was  in- 
formed that  two  hundred  men  of  the  battalion  of  the 
Quinze-Vingts,  who  had  remained  behind,  desired  to  be 
taken  to  the  defence  of  the  Tuileries.  He  asked  where 
they  were,  and  went  to  them. 

"March  at  our  head,"  they  said  to  him,  "and  we  will 
follow." 

Garat  put  his  fifteen  dragoons  at  their  head  and  his 
sixteen  chasseurs  in  their  rear,  marched  himself  in  front  of 
the  little  troop,  pistol  in  hand,  and  the  two  hundred  men, 
of  whom  only  fifty  were  armed,  started  for  the  Convention. 
They  passed  before  the  battalion  of  Montreuil;  the  Popin- 
eourt battalion  had  not  yet  arrived.  The  Montreuils  wished 
to  march  at  once;  but  their  commander  insisted  on  waiting 
for  an  order  from  Barras.  As  soon  as  Garat  reached  the 
Tuileries  he  sent  back  the  order.  The  battalion  then 
started,  and  arrived  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  action. 

During  this  time  General  Carteaux  had  taken  command 
of  the  detachment  with  which  he  was  to  guard  the  Pont- 


CITIZEN    GARAT.  349 

îTeuf.  He  had  but  three  hundred  and  fifty  men  and  two 
pieces  of  cannon.  He  sent  word  to  Bonaparte  that  he  could 
not  hold  the  bridge  with  such  forces.  For  all  answer  he 
received  the  following  line,  in  an  almost  indecipherable 
writing:  — 

You  will  hold  out  to  the  last  extremity. 

Bonaparte. 

That  was  the  first  written  order  ever  issued  by  the  young 
general.     The  terseness  of  his  style  will  be  recognized. 

But  about  two  in  the  afternoon,  a  column  of  twelve 
hundred  men,  well  armed,  from  the  Sections  of  the  Unité 
and  the  Fontaine-de-Grenelle,  advanced  upon  that  part  of 
the  Pont-Neuf  which  leads  to  the  rue  Dauphine.  There 
it  was  stopped  by  the  cavalry  outposts.  Then  a  citizen- 
Sectiouist,  carrying  a  magnificent  bouquet  tied  with  a  tri- 
color ribbon,  issued  from  the  ranks.  General  Carteaux 
sent  an  aide-de-camp  to  forbid  the  column  to  advance, 
unless  its  commander  could  produce  an  order  from  either 
the  Committee  of  Public  safety  or  the  commander-in-chief 
Barras. 

The  aide-de-camp  returned,  accompanied  by  the  major 
in  command  from  the  Unité,  who  announced,  in  the  name 
of  the  two  Sections,  that  he  brought  the  olive  branch  and 
wished  to  fraternize  with  the  general  and  the  troops  under 
his  command. 

"Go  and  tell  your  president,"  replied  Carteaux,  "that  it 
is  not  to  me,  but  to  the  National  Convention  that  he  must 
offer  the  olive-branch.  If  a  deputation  of  four  unarmed 
citizens  are  detached,  I  will  have  them  conducted  to  the 
Convention,  which  alone  can  receive  that  symbol  of  peace 
and  fraternity." 

This  was  not  the  answer  the  major  expected;  so  he 
replied,  on  his  side,  that  they  would  deliberate,  and  after 
deliberation  no  doubt  they  should  meet  again,  and  more 
fraternally.     The  major  then  retired,  and  the  two  bodies 


350  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

ot  Sectionists  formed  in  line  of  battle  along  the  quai  Conti 
and  the  quai  Malaquais.  This  position  showed  hostile 
intentions,  which  were  soon  confirmed. 

About  three  o'clock  Carteaux  saw  so  strong  a  column 
advancing  up  the  rue  de  la  Monnaie  that  it  filled  the  whole 
width  of  the  street;  and  the  general,  standing  on  the 
highest  point  of  the  Pont-Neuf,  could  not  see  the  end 
of  it.  A  third  column  was  also  coming  up  by  the 
quai  de  la  Ferraille,  while  a  fourth  filed  past  the  latter^ 
to  cut  off  the  detachment  on  the  Pont-Neuf  by  the  quai 
de  l'École. 

In  spite  ot  the  orders  received  from  Bona^jarte  to  hold 
out  to  the  last  extremity,  General  Carteaux  saw  plainly 
that  he  had  not  a  minute  to  lose  in  effecting  his  retreat, 
and  that  he  must  make  it  without  allowing  the  enemy  to 
discover  his  weakness.  He  instantly  ordered  the  artillery 
to  put  on  the  forward  wheels  to  their  pieces.  Two  com- 
panies immediately  opened  the  way  to  the  garden  of  the 
Infanta,  and  the  two  cannon  passed  through. 

The  rest  of  the  troop  was  divided  into  four  companies, 
one  facing  the  Sectionists  coming  up  the  rue  de  la  Monnaie, 
the  second  the  column  on  the  quai  de  la  Ferraille,  while 
the  other  companies  protected  the  retreat  of  the  artillery. 
The  cavalry  remained  in  position  on  the  Pont-Neuf,  to 
stop  the  advance  of  the  column  of  the  Unité,  and  to  mask 
the  manoeuvre. 

No  sooner  had  General  Carteaux  taken  up  his  position  in 
the  garden  of  the  Infanta  than  he  called  in  the  companies 
which  were  facing  the  rue  de  la  Monnaie  and  the  quai  de 
la  Ferraille,  also  the  cavalry.  The  movement  was  executed 
in  fine  order;  but  the  abandoned  positions  were  instantly 
occupied  by  the  Sectionists. 

During  this  time  Garat  had  returned  with  his  fifteen 
dragoons,  his  fifteen  chasseurs,  and  the  two  hundred  men 
of  the  Section  of  the  Quinze-Vingts,  of  which  only  fifty 
were  armed.  The  Pont-Neuf  bristled  with  bayonets.  He 
thought  they  were  those  of  the  Conventionalists  he  had  left 


CITIZEN    GARAT.  351 

behind  him  ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  among  them  than  he  saw 
by  the  coat-collars  and  the  green  pompons  that  he  had 
encountered  not  only  Sectionists,   but  Chouans. 

At  the  same  moment  the  commander  of  the  body  occu- 
pying the  bridge,  who  was  no  other  than  Morgan,  advanced 
toward  him,  remembering  to  have  seen  him  in  the 
Convention. 

"Pardon  me.  Monsieur  Garat,"  he  said,  bowing  with  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  "  1  think  you  have  lost  your  way.  Can  I 
be  of  service?     What  are  you  seeking?  " 

Garat  recognized  him,  and  understood  the  facetiousness. 
But  preferring  to  take  another  tone,  he  said,  cocking  his 
pistol  :  — 

"  I  desire,  citizen  president,  that  you  shall  give  passage 
to  myself  and  my  men." 

Morgan  continued  to  treat  the  matter  in  jest. 

"Nothing  more  reasonable,"  he  replied j  "and  we  owe  it 
to  you,  if  only  in  return  for  the  civility  of  General  Carteaux, 
who  has  just  given  us  the  ground  we  now  occupy,  without 
striking  a  blow.  But  stay,  uncock  your  pistol;  some  ill-luck 
might  happen.  Suppose  it  went  off  accidentally,  it  would 
be  thought  that  you  fired  upon  me,  and  my  men  would  blow 
you  and  your  little  troop  to  bits.  You  are  less  than  half 
armed,  1  see;  and  it  would  be  very  disagreeable  to  me  to 
have  it  thought  that  we  took  advantage  of  numbers." 

Garat  uncocked  his  pistol. 

"But,"  he  said,  "have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  why  you 
are  here." 

"Don't  you  see,"  replied  Morgan,  laughing,  "that  we 
are  going  to  the  assistance  of  the  Convention?  " 

"Commandant,"  said  Garat,  jesting  himself,  "you 
must  allow  that  you  have  a  curious  way  of  assisting 
people." 

"Ah!  I  see  you  don't  believe  me,"  said  Morgan,  "so  1 
shall  have  to  tell  you  the  truth.  Well,  we  are  a  hundred 
thousand  strong  in  Paris,  and  a  million  strong  in  France; 
are  we  not,  Saint- Victor?  " 


352  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

The  young  muscadin  to  whom  he  addressed  himself,  and 
who  was  armed  to  the  teeth,  replied  with  a  jeering  toss  of 
his  head,  and  one  word  uttered  in  his  musical  voice  :  — 

"More." 

"You  see,"  continued  Morgan,  "that  my  friend  Saint- 
Victor,  who  is  a  man  of  honor,  confirms  what  I  have  just 
said.  Well,  then,  there  are  more  than  a  hundred  thousand 
in  Paris,  and  more  than  a  million  in  France,  who  have 
sworn  the  extermination  of  the  Conventionals,  and  the 
destruction  of  the  building  in  which  the  order  for  the 
King's  death  was  signed,  and  from  which  have  issued, 
like  birds  of  prey,  such  an  untold  number  of  death  war- 
rants. Xot  only  must  those  men  be  punished,  but  the 
expiation  must  extend  to  stones.  To-morrow,  not  a  Con- 
ventional will  be  left  alive;  to-morrow,  the  palace  where 
the  Convention  holds  its  sessions  will  be  razed  to  the 
ground.  We  shall  sow  salt  on  the  place  where  it  stood, 
and  the  earth  on  which  it  was  built  shall  be  forever  exe- 
crated by  posterity." 

"If  you  are  so  sure  of  the  result,  commandant,"  said 
Garat,  resuming  the  jesting  tone,  which  Morgan  had 
abandoned,  "  it  must  be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  you 
whether  you  have  two  hundred  men  more  or  less  to 
fight." 

"Absolute  indifference,"  replied  Morgan. 

"In  that  case,  I  say  for  the  second  time,  allow  me  to 
pass;  I  desire  to  die  with  my  colleagues,  and  have  my 
tomb  in  that  Convention  you  are  about  to  annihilate." 

"Then  dismount  from  your  horse.  Take  my  arm,  and  let 
us  advance.  Messieurs,"  added  Morgan,  with  that  inflec- 
tion of  the  voice  which,  without  indicating  the  incroyable, 
was  significant  of  the  aristocracy,  "  let  us  play  fairly. 
Citizen  Garat  asks  to  go  with  his  two  hundred  men,  of 
whom  only  fifty  are  armed,  to  the  defence  of  the  National 
Convention.  His  request  seems  to  me  reasonable,  with 
the  poor  Convention  in  so  bad  a  way,  and  I  think  we  ought 
not  to  oppose  his  kindly  sentiments." 


CITIZEN   GARAT.  353 

Bursts  of  ironical  laughter  greeted  this  motion,  which 
did  not  need  to  be  put  to  the  vote.  A  path  was  openea 
instantly;  and  Morgan  and  Garat  walking  at  their  head, 
the  little  body  of  two  hundred  men  passed  through. 

"  Good-luck  to  you  !  "  cried  Saint- Victor. 

VOL.  I. — 23 


354  THE   FIliST   K£ PUBLIC. 


XX. 


THE    OUTPOSTS. 


Morgan  pretended  not  to  see  that  he  had  passed  his  own 
outposts.  Alone,  arm  in  arm  with  Garat,  and  still  con- 
versing, he  advanced  as  far  as  the  colonnade.  He  was  one 
of  those  sincerely  loyal  men  who  trust  even  their  enemies, 
convinced  that  the  most  prudent  course  of  all  —  above  all 
in  France  —  is  that  of  courage. 

When  they  reached  the  colonnade  of  the  Louvre  Morgan 
was  twenty  paces  from  his  own  line  and  ten  paces  from 
that  of  General  Carteaux.  The  general  himself  was  stand- 
ing at  his  outposts,  leaning  on  his  sabre,  magnificently 
dressed,  and  wearing  a  hat  with  an  enormous  tri-color 
plume,  the  feathers  of  which  fell  over  into  his  eyes  and 
annoyed  him. 

"You  have  a  gorgeous  drum-major  there,"  said  Morgan 
to  Garat.     "I  congratulate  you  on  him." 

Garat  smiled.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that,  volunta- 
rily or  involuntarily,  the  mistake  had  been  made. 

"That  is  not  our  drum-major,  but  our  commander, 
General  Carteaux,"  he  replied. 

"  The  devil  !  so  that 's  the  man  who  might  have  taken 
Toulon,  and  preferred  to  leave  the  business  to  a  little  officer 
of  artillery  named  —  what  is  his  name?  —  Buonaparte,  was 
it?  Ha!  present  me  to  that  worthy  citizen;  I  adore  hand- 
some men,  and  above  all,  handsome  uniforms." 

"With  pleasure,"  said  Garat. 

They  advanced  to  General  Carteaux. 

"Citizen-general,"  said  Garat  to  the  colossus  in  uniform, 
"I  have  the  honor  to  present  to  you  the  citizen  president 
of  the  Section  Le  Peletier,   who  has  not  only  gallantly 


THE   OUTPOSTS.  355 

allowed  me  passage  through  his  men,  but  has  also,  lest 
anything  should  happen  to  me,  accompanied  me  thus  far 
himself." 

"Citizen,"  said  Carteaux,  drawing  himself  up,  so  as  not 
to  lose  an  inch  of  his  height,  "I  join  with  the  citizen- 
Conventional  Garat  in  offering  you  my  thanks." 

"There's  no  occasion,  general,"  said  Morgan,  with  his 
customary  politeness.  "1  saw  you  at  a  distance,  and  I 
wished  to  make  your  acquaintance;  also  I  wished  to  ask 
you  whether  you  are  willing  to  cede  to  us,  without  effusion 
of  blood,  your  present  position,  as  you  did  the  other." 

"Is  that  a  jest,  or  a  proposition?"  asked  Carteaux,  pom- 
pously deepening  his  already  pompous  voice. 

"A  proposition,  and  a  serious  one,"  replied  Morgan. 

"You  seem  to  be  too  familiar  with  war,  citizen,"  replied 
Carteaux,  "  not  to  be  aware  that  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  this  position  and  the  other.  The  other  was 
attackable  on  four  sides,  this  on  two  only.  And  you  may 
observe,  citizen,  two  cannon  are  ready  to  receive  all  who 
come  by  the  quays,  and  two  more  are  fully  prepared 
to  welcome  those  who  approach  us  by  the  rue  Saint- 
Honore." 

"Then  why  don't  you  open  fire,  general?"  said  the 
young  president,  carelessly.  "  It  is  a  line  open  range  from 
the  garden  of  the  Infanta  to  the  Pont-Neuf,  —  scarcely  a 
hundred  paces." 

"  The  general,  wishing  to  leave  all  the  responsibility  for 
the  blood  spilt  on  the  Sectionists,  has  forbidden  us  to  fire 
the  first  shot." 

"What  general,  —  Barras? " 

"No;  General  Bonaparte." 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  your  little  officer  at  Toulon.  He  is  making 
his  way!     Already  a  general,  like  yourself!" 

"More  general  than  I;  for  I  am  under  his  orders,"  said 
Carteaux. 

"That  must  be  disagreeable  to  j'ou,  citizen.  What  an 
injustice!  you,   who  are  six   feet  tall,  to  obey  that  little 


356  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

officer,  only  twenty -four  years  old,  and  five  feet  one  inch 
in  height, — or  so  they  tell  me." 

"Don't  you  know  him?"  said  Carteaux. 

"No;  I  have  not  that  honor." 

"Well,  begin  the  firing,  and  this  evening  —  " 

"This  evening?" 

"  This  evening  you  will  know  him  ;  that 's  all  I  have  to 
say.  " 

At  that  moment  drums  were  heard  beating  a  salute,  and 
through  the  gate  of  the  Louvre  came  a  gorgeous  staff,  in  the 
midst  of  which  was  Barras,  dressed  with  extreme  elegance, 
and  Bonaparte,  distinguished  by  extreme  simplicity. 

Bonaparte  was,  as  we  have  said,  thin  and  short.  From 
the  point  at  which  Morgan  viewed  him,  the  fine  lines  of 
his  face  could  not  be  distinguished,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
merely  an  insignificant  man,  riding,  moreover,  second  to 
Barras. 

"Ah,  ha!"  said  Morgan;  "something  is  occurring." 

"Yes,"  said  Garat,  "see!  General  Barras  and  General 
Bonaparte  have  come  to  inspect  the  outposts." 

"Which  is  General  Bonaparte?" 

"The  one  on  the  black  horse." 

"Why,  he's  a  lad  who  hasn't  got  his  growth,"  said 
Morgan,   shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"  Wait,"  said  Carteaux,  "he  soon  will  have  it." 

Barras,  Bonaparte,  and  the  staff  advanced  to  General 
Carteaux. 

"I  shall  stay,"  said  Morgan  to  Garat.  "I  want  to  see 
that  Bonaparte  near  by." 

"Then  hide  behind  me,"  said  Garat;  "or  behind  Car- 
teaux, —  he  's  a  better  shield." 

Morgan  did  as  he  was  told,  and  the  cavalcade  approached 
the  general. 

Barras  stopped  before  Carteaux;  but  Bonaparte  made  a 
few  steps  in  advance,  and  found  himself  alone  on  the  quay. 
He  was  half  a  musket-shot  from  the  insurgents.  Several 
pieces  in  the  ranks  of  the  Sectionists  were  lowered  at  him. 


THE   OUTPOSTS.  357 

Morgan,  seeing  this,  made  a  bound  forward,  and  stood 
before  the  horse  on  which  Bonaparte  was  mounted.  With 
a  wave  of  his  hat,  he  compelled  his  men  to  lift  their 
muskets. 

Bonaparte  rose  in  his  stirrups,  apparently  paying  no 
attention  to  this  incident.  The  Pont-Neuf,  the  rue  de  la 
Monnaie,  the  quai  de  la  Vallée,  the  rue  de  ïh  ion  ville,  and 
the  quai  Conti,  as  far  as  the  Institute,  were  crowded  with 
armed  men  ;  also,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  on  the  quai 
de  l'École,  the  quai  de  la  Mégisserie,  the  quai  des  Mor- 
fondus, nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  gun-barrels  shining  in 
the  sun,  and  all  leaning  in  one  direction,  like  the  ears  in 
a  field  of  wheat. 

"How  many  men  do  you  think  you  have  before  you, 
citizen  Carteaux?  "  asked  Bonaparte. 

"Impossible  to  say,  general.  In  the  open  country  I 
could  tell  within  a  thousand  men;  but  among  these  streets 
and  quays  and  squares  I  don't  know  how  to  reckon." 

"General,  if  you  want  to  know  exactly,"  said  Garat, 
laughing,  "ask  the  citizen  who  has  just  prevented  those 
men  from  firing  on  you.       He  can  answer  you  correctly." 

Bonaparte  lowered  his  eyes  to  the  young  man,  as  if  he 
saw  him  for  the  first  time. 

"Citizen,"  he  said,  with  a  slight  salutation  of  the  head, 
"will  it  please  you  to  give  me  the  information  I  desire?" 

"I  think  you  asked,  monsieur,"  said  Morgan,  careful  to 
bestow  that  term  on  the  republican  general,  "  the  number 
of  the  men  opposed  to  you." 

"Yes,"  said  Bonaparte,  fixing  a  penetrating  eye  on  his 
questioner. 

"Before  you,  monsieur,"  resumed  Morgan,  "you  have, 
visible  or  invisible,  from  thirty-two  to  thirty-four  thousand 
men  ;  on  the  other  side  of  the  rue  Saint-Roch,  ten  thousand  ; 
from  the  place  des  Filles-Saint-Thomas  to  the  barrière  des 
Sergents  another  ten  thousand,  —  about  fifty-six  thousand 
men,  all  told." 

"  Is  that  all?"  inquired  Bonaparte. 


o58.  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"Do  you  think  that  is  not  enough  to  oppose  your  five 
thousand?  " 

"And  you  say  you  are  sure  of  your  estimate?"  said 
Bonaparte,  paying  no  attention  to  Morgan's  remark. 

"Perfectly  sure;  I  am  one  of  their  chief  leaders." 

Lightning  flashed  in  the  eye  of  the  young  general,  who 
turned  to  Carteaux. 

"How  came  the  citizen-Sectionist  here?"  he  asked.  "Is 
he  your  prisoner?  " 

"No,  citizen-general,"  replied  Carteaux. 

"Did  he  come  with  a  flag  of  truce?" 

"No." 

Bonaparte  frowned. 

"He  is  here  in  your  ranks  for  some  reason,"  he  insisted. 
"What  is  it?" 

"Citizen-general,"  said  Garat,  advancing,  "I,  with  a 
hundred  and  fifty  unarmed  men,  whom  I  had  recruited  in 
the  faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  fell  into  the  midst  of  the 
troops  of  ci*;izen  Morgan.  In  order  that  no  harm  should 
happen  to  us,  he  accompanied  me  here  in  person,  with  a 
loyalty  and  generosity  for  which  we  owe  him  thanks. 
Citizen  Morgan,  I  thank  you  for  the  service  you  have  done 
us  ;  and  I  declare  that  not  only  have  we  no  right  to  detain 
you,  but  also  that  if  we  did  detain  you,  we  should  do  an 
action  contrary  to  loyalty  and  human  rights.  Citizen- 
General  Bonaparte,  I  demand  permission  for  the  citizen 
to  retire." 

And  Garat,  advancing  towards  Morgan,  grasped  his  hand, 
while  Bonaparte,  stretching  his  arm  towards  the  Sectionary 
outposts,  made  a  sign  to  Morgan  to  return  to  his  troops, 
which  the  latter,  after  courteously  bowing  to  Bonaparte, 
proceeded  to  do,  with  leisurely  step,  and  whistling  as  he 
went  the  tune  of  "La  Belle  Gabrielle." 


THE   STEPS   OF   SAINT-ROCH.  359 


XXI. 


THE   STEPS    OF    SAINT-ROCH. 


After  Morgan  had  rejoined  the  Sectionists  and  faced 
General  Bonaparte,  who  this  time  saluted  him  by  draw- 
ing his  sabre  from  its  sheath,  the  latter  turned  to  Carteaux, 
and  said  ;  — 

"  You  were  right,  general,  to  abandon  the  Pont-Neuf,  in 
spite  of  the  orders  I  had  given  you.  You  could  not  have 
held  it  with  three  hundred  men  against  thirty-four  thou- 
sand. But  here  you  have  over  a  thousand;  here  is  the 
Thermopylae  of  the  Convention.  You  must  be  killed 
here,  you  and  your  men,  before  you  yield  an  inch.  Come, 
Barras." 

Barras  bowed  to  General  Carteaux,  and  followed  Bona- 
parte, as  though  he  were  accustomed  to  receiving  orders 
from  him.  Following  the  quay,  the  young  general  ordered 
two  pieces  of  cannon  into  position  beneath  the  balcony  of 
Charles  IX.,  and  two  more  in  battery  to  sweep  the  quai 
Conti  in  flank.  Then,  continuing  to  follow  the  quay,  he 
re-entered  the  court  of  the  Carrousel.  He  had  previously 
gone  out  by  the  drawbridge  at  the  extremity  of  the  Tui- 
leries gardens,  crossed  the  place  de  la  Révolution  (where 
was  a  strong  reserve  of  men  and  artillery),  followed  the 
alley  of  the  Feuillants  from  the  place  Vendôme  to  the 
cul-de-sac  of  the  Dauphin  and  the  rue  Saint-Honore.  He 
had  then  issued,  as  we  have  said,  by  the  Louvre,  and  now 
returned  by  the  Carrousel. 

Just  as  Bonaparte  and  Barras  disappeared  into  the 
Carrousel  through  the  quay  gate,  the  bearer  of  a  flag  of 
truce  was  brought  to  them,  with  all  the  ceremonial  of  cities 
in  active  warfare.     He  came  from  the  gate  of  the  Échelle, 


360  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Carrousel,  and  was  preceded  "by 
a  trumpeter.  Questioned  as  to  his  mission,  he  said  he  was 
the  bearer  of  proposals  from  citizen  Danican,  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Sectionists. 

He  was  led  into  the  hall  of  the  Convention,  and  the 
bandage  was  taken  from  his  eyes.  Then  in  a  threatening 
tone  he  offered  peace,  ou  condition  that  the  battalion  of 
Patriots  should  be  disarmed,  and  the  decrees  of  Fructidor 
revoked.  At  this  moment  the  Convention  gave  signs  of 
a  weakness  which  great  assemblies,  to  their  shame,  do 
sometimes  display.  And  the  strange  thing  was  that  this 
weakness  appeared  in  precisely  those  men  who  were  thought 
the  strongest.  Boissy  d'Anglas,  so  firm,  so  antique  in  his 
bearing  on  the  1st  Prairial,  now  mounted  the  tribune,  and 
proposed  to  grant  to  Danican,  not  what  he  asked,  but  a 
conference  for  discussion;  another  member  proposed  to 
disarm  all  the  Patriots  whose  conduct  since  '89  had  been 
in  any  way  reprehensible;  and  a  third  suggested,  what  was 
far  worse,  to  rely  on  the  loyalty  of  the  Sections.  Lan- 
juinais,  the  man  who  had  so  resolutely  withstood  the 
Jacobins,  —  Lanjuinais,  who  had  dared  to  oppose  the  mas- 
sacres of  September,  —  Lanjuinais  was  frightened,  and 
advised  accepting  the  proposals  of  "those  good  citizens," 
—  those  good  citizens  being  the  Sectionists. 

But  one  Conventional  went  still  farther,  crying  out: 
"They  tell  me  that  murderers  and  assassins  have  slipped 
into  the  battalion  of  '89.     I  demand  that  they  be  shot." 

Then  Chénier  sprang  to  the  tribune.  The  poet  in  the 
midst  of  that  sea  of  heads  raised  his  still  higher,  inspired, 
not  by  the  muse  of  drama,  but  by  the  genius  of  patriotism. 

"I  am  amazed,"  he  said,  "that  you  even  listen  to  con- 
ditions from  the  Sections  in  revolt.  There  is  no  middle 
course  for  the  Convention.  Victory  or  death  !  When  the 
Convention  is  victorious  it  will  know  how  to  separate  the 
misguided  from  the  guilty.  They  talk  of  murderers  and 
assassins,"  he  continued  ;  "the  murderers  and  assassins 
are  the  rioters." 


THE   STEPS   OF   SAINT-ROOH.  361 

Lanjuinais  mounted  the  tribune,  saying:  "I  foresee 
civil  war." 

Twenty  voices  replied  at  the  same  instant  ;  "  Civil  war  ! 
it  is  you  who  are  making  it." 

Lanjuinais  tried  to  reply.  Shouts  of  "  Down  !  down  !  " 
came  from  every  part  of  the  hall.  At  that  moment  stands 
of  arms  were  brought  in  to  General  Bonaparte. 

"For  whom  are  those  arms?"  cried  a  voice. 

"For  the  Convention,  if  worthy  of  them,"  replied 
Bonaparte. 

The  words  of  the  young  man  went  to  every  heart. 

"Arms!  give  us  arms!"  cried  the  assembly.  "We  will 
die  fighting." 

The  Convention,  for  a  moment  degraded,  recovered  itself. 
Life  was  not  yet  safe,  but  honor  was.  Bonaparte  profited 
by  the  flash  of  enthusiasm  he  had  thus  lighted.  Each 
deputy  received  a  musket  and  a  packet  of  cartridges. 
Barras  called  out  :  — 

"We  will  die  in  the  streets  to  defend  the  Convention; 
but  you,  the  Convention,  must  die  here  to  defend  Liberty  !  " 

Chenier,  who  was  rather  the  hero  of  the  occasion,  again 
mounted  the  tribune,  and  with  that  magniloquence  which 
is  not  devoid  of  a  certain  grandeur,  he  said,  raising  his 
arms  to  heaven:  — 

"  0  thou,  who  for  six  years  hast  guided  the  vessel  of  the 
Kevolution  through  frightful  tempests  and  sunken  rocks; 
thou,  by  whose  might  we  have  conquered  Europe  with  a 
government  without  rulers,  with  an  array  without  generals, 
soldiers  without  pay,  —  do  thou,  Genius  of  Liberty,  watch 
over  us,  thy  last  defenders  !  " 

At  that  instant,  as  though  Chenier's  prayer  were  an- 
swered, the  first  shots  were  heard.  Each  deputy  seized 
his  gun,  and  standing  in  his  place,  bit  off  the  cartridge  and 
loaded  it.  It  was  a  solemn  moment;  nothing  was  heard 
but  the  click  of  the  ramrods  in  the  muzzles  of  the  muskets. 

During  the  whole  morning  the  Conventionalist  troops, 
assailed  by  the  grossest  insults,  and  occasionally  by  stray 


Sè2  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

shots,  had  obeyed  with  heroic  patience  the  orders  not  to  fire. 
But,  attacked  this  time  by  a  volley  from  a  courtyard  seized 
by  the  Sectionists,  and  seeing  several  men  fall  wounded  in 
their  own  ranks,  they  replied  with  a  volley  in  return. 

Bonaparte,  at  the  first  sound  of  the  shots,  sprang  into 
the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries. 

"Who  fired  first?"  he  cried. 

"  The  Sectionists  !  "  was  the  answer  from  all  sides. 

"  Then  all 's  well  !  "  he  said.  "  And  it  will  not  be  my  fault 
if  our  uniforms  are  red  with  the  blood  of  Frenchmen." 

He  listened.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  sounds  were 
loudest  in  the  direction  of  Saint-Eoch.  Putting  his  horse 
at  a  gallop,  he  rode  up  to  two  cannon  on  the  Feuillants, 
ordered  them  into  battery,  and  brought  them  to  the  head 
of  the  rue  du  Dauphin. 

That  street  was  a  furnace.  The  Conventionals  were 
holding  it;  but  the  Sectionists,  masters  of  all  the  win- 
dows, and  grouped  in  a  semi-circle  on  the  steps  of  Saint- 
Hoch,  were  lashing  them  down  with  a  hail  of  balls. 

Then  it  was  that  Bonaparte  appeared,  preceded  by  the 
two  cannon,  and  followed  by  the  battalion  of  '89.  He 
gave  the  order  to  the  commandants  of  the  latter  to  advance 
to  the  rue  Saint-Honore,  through  the  firing  and  in  spite 
of  the  firing,  and  wheel,  one  to  the  right,  the  other  to  the 
left. 

The  commanders  executed  the  manœiivre,  and  as  they 
entered  the  rue  Saint-Honore,  to  right  and  left,  firing  them- 
selves, one  toward  the  Palais-Royal,  the  other  toward  the 
place  Vendôme,  they  heard  a  tornado  of  iron  pass  between 
them. 

It  came  from  the  two  cannon  of  General  Bonaparte,  which 
thundered  at  once,  covering  the  steps  of  the  church  with 
shot  and  shell  and  dying  men  and  a  deluge  of  blood. 


THE   BOUT.  363 


XXII. 


THE   ROUT. 


When  the  smoke  from  the  cannon  dispersed,  those  Sec- 
tionists  who  still  remained  erect  on  the  steps  of  the  church 
saw  Bonaparte  on  horseback  in  the  midst  of  the  gunners, 
who  were  reloading  their  pieces  not  fifty  paces  from  them. 
They  answered  with  a  volley  of  musketry.  Seven  or 
eight  gunners  fell.  Bonaparte's  black  horse  was  killed  by 
a  shot  in  the  head. 

"Fire!  "  cried  Bonaparte,  as  he  fell. 

The  cannon  thundered  for  the  second  time.  Bonaparte 
had  time  to  extricate  himself.  He  had  ambushed  part  of 
the  battalion  of  '89  in  the  cul-de-sac  of  the  Dauphin,  which 
they  reached  through  the  stables.  Drawing  his  sword,  he 
cried  out  :  — 

"  Follow  me,  the  Volunteers  !  " 

And  the  battalion  came  on  with  bayonets  lowered.  They 
were  all  tried  men  who  had  gone  through  the  first  battles 
of  the  Eevolutiou.  Bonaparte  noticed  an  old  drummer, 
who  was  standing  apart. 

"Here,"  he  said,  "and  beat  the  charge!  " 

"The  charge,  my  lad!  "  said  the  old  drummer,  who  saw 
that  he  had  to  do  with  a  youth  of  twenty-five;  "you  want 
the  charge?     Well,  you  shall  have  it,  —  and  hot,  too!  " 

He  walked  to  the  head  of  the  regiment,  and  began  to  beat 
the  charge.  The  regiment  marched  straight  to  the  steps 
of  the  church,  and  pinned  the  remaining  Sectionists  with 
their  bayonets  to  the  doors. 

"At  a  gallop,  rue  Saint-Honore !  "  cried  Bonaparte. 


364  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

The  cannon  obeyed  as  if  they,  too,  had  understood  the 
order.  While  the  Volunteers  were  marching  on  Saint- 
Roch,  the  gunners  had  reloaded  them. 

"Turn  to  right!  "  cried  Bonaparte,  to  one  piece.  "Turn 
to  left  !  "  he  cried  to  the  other.  Then  to  both,  at  the  same 
instant,  "  Fire  !  "  he  said. 

And  the  rue  Saint-Honore  was  swept  from  end  to  end 
with  the  cannister  of  the  two  pieces. 

The  Sectionists,  annihilated  before  they  even  knew 
whence  the  thunderbolt  had  come,  took  refuge  in  the 
church  of  Saint-Roch,  in  the  Theatre  de  la  République 
(now  the  Theatre  Français),  and  in  the  Palais-Royal. 
They  were  put  to  flight,  dispersed,  broken.  It  was  for 
others  to  dislodge  them  from  their  refuge.  Bonaparte 
himself  mounted  another  horse,  crying  out  to  the  regi- 
ment of  Volunteers  :  — 

"Patriots  of  '89,  the  honor  of  the  day  is  yours.  Finish 
what  you  have  so  well  begun." 

The  men,  who  did  not  know  him,  were  amazed  at  being 
commanded  by  a  mere  lad.  But  they  had  just  seen  him  at 
work,  and  they  were  dazzled  by  his  calmness  under  fire. 
They  scarcely  knew  his  name;  and  most  certainly  they 
knew  not  him.  They  put  their  hats  on  the  ends  of  their 
guns,  and  cried  out  :  — 

"  Long  live  the  Convention  !  " 

The  wounded,  lying  beside  the  houses  and  on  the  door- 
steps, rose,  supporting  themselves  by  the  doors  or  window- 
frames,  and  cried  out  :  — 

"Long  live  the  Republic!  " 

The  streets  were  cumbered  with  the  dead;  blood  flowed 
in  the  gutters  as  it  does  in  a  slaughter-house.  But  enthu- 
siasm hovered  above  those  dead  bodies. 

"I  have  nothing  more  to  do  here,"  said  the  young  gen- 
eral. Setting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  galloped  through  the 
place  Vendôme,  now  clear,  and  almost  among  the  fugitives 
he  seemed  to  be  pursuing,  until  he  reached  the  rue  Saint- 
Florentine,  and  thence  the  place  de  la  Révolution. 


THE   ROUT.  365 

There  he  gave  an  order  to  General  Montchoisy,  com- 
manding the  reserve,  to  form  a  column,  take  two  pieces  of 
twelve,  and  follow  the  boulevard  to  the  porte  Saint-Honoré, 
and  so  turn  the  place  Vendôme  ;  then  form  a  junction  with 
the  guard  at  headquarters  (in  the  rue  des  Capucines), 
and  with  that  guard  return  down  the  place  Vendôme,  and 
sweep  out  all  the  Sectionists  that  he  found. 

At  the  same  time  General  Brune,  according  to  another 
order  given  by  Bonaparte,  followed  the  rues  Saint-Nicaise 
and  Saint-Honoré.  All  the  Sectionists  between  the  bar- 
rière des  Serpents  and  the  place  Vendôme,  thus  attacked 
on  three  sides,  were  either  killed  or  made  prisoners.  Those 
who  escaped  by  the  rue  de  la  Loi  (the  rue  de  Richelieu) 
built  a  barricade  at  the  upper  end  of  the  rue  Saint-Marc. 

It  was  General  Danican  who  made  this  last  stand  with 
some  ten  thousand  men,  whom  he  had  held  in  reserve  at 
the  nearest  point  to  the  Convention,  hoping  to  be  able  to 
force  the  gate  of  the  Échelle  at  the  right  moment,  and 
invade  the  Assembly.  Wishing  to  obtain  for  himself  all 
the  honors  of  the  day,  he  had  forbidden  Morgan,  who  com- 
manded on  the  Pont-Xeuf,  and  Coster  de  Saint- Victor,  who 
commanded  on  the  quai  Conti,  to  make  any  advance. 

Suddenly  Morgan  saw  Danican,  with  the  remnants  of 
his  ten  thousand  men,  rushing  down  through  the  Halles 
and  the  place  du  Châtelet.  The  impetus  thus  given 
extended  itself  to  the  quai  du  Louvre  and  the  quai  Conti. 
This  was  the  movement  which  Bonaparte  had  foreseen 
when  he  left  Saint-Roch. 

From  the  place  de  la  Révolution,  where  he  then  was,  he 
saw  the  Sectionists  advance  in  close  columns,  on  one  side 
toward  the  gardens  of  the  Infanta,  on  the  other  towards 
the  quai  Malaquais.  He  then  sent  two  batteries  to  take 
position  on  the  quai  des  Tuileries,  and  ordered  them  to 
fire,  slanting,  across  the  river.  He  himself  galloped  up 
the  rue  du  Bac,  turned  the  three  cannon  he  had  there  upon 
the  quai  Voltaire,  and  gave  the  word  "  Fire  !  "  as  the  head 
of  the  Sectionist  column  debouched  by  the  Institute. 


366  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Obliged  to  march  in  close  ranks  to  pass  between  the 
edifice  and  the  parapet,  the  Sectionists  presented  a  solid, 
narrow  mass,  but  very  deep.  It  was  at  that  moment  that 
the  cannon  thundered  on  them,  and  their  ranks  were  liter- 
ally mown  down  as  with  a  scythe.  The  battery  was  of  six 
cannon,  of  which  three  only  were  fired  at  a  time  ;  the  other 
three  reloaded  and  fired  in  turn.  It  was  a  double  broad- 
side, and  made  the  firing  incessant. 

The  Sections  wavered,  then  fell  back.  Coster  de  Saint- 
Victor  put  himself  at  their  head,  rallied  them,  and  was  the 
first  to  step  out  from  the  narrow  passage.  His  men  fol- 
lowed him.  The  cannon  raked  them  on  front  and  flank. 
They  fell  about  Coster,  who  was  left  standing  alone  ten 
steps  in  advance  of  the  mutilated  column,  the  fragments 
of  which  again  retreated. 

Saint-Victor  sprang  upon  the  parapet  of  the  quay,  and 
there,  exposed  to  fire  on  all  sides,  he  shouted  to  his  men, 
encouraged  them,  insulted  them.  Goaded  by  his  sarcasms, 
again  the  Sectionists  tried  to  force  their  way.  Coster 
jumped  from  the  parapet,  and  put  himself  at  their  head. 

The  artillery  belched  forth  in  torrents;  the  grape-shot 
ploughed  the  ranks  ;  every  shell  that  burst  left  a  gap  among 
the  living.  Coster's  hat  was  shot  off,  but  the  whirlwind 
of  iron  went  by  and  did  not  touch  him. 

He  looked  about  him;  saw  himself  alone;  admitted  the 
impossibility  of  again  rallying  his  men;  cast  his  eyes  on 
the  quay  of  the  Louvre,  where  Morgan  was  waging  a 
furious  fight  with  Carteaux  ;  rushed  at  headlong  speed  up 
the  rue  Mazarin,  through  the  rue  Guéuégaud,  thence  to 
the  upper  end  of  the  quai  Conti,  heaped  with  dead;  and 
exposed  as  he  was  to  the  batteries  on  the  quai  des  Tui- 
leries, gathered  as  he  went  a  thousand  men,  crossed  the 
Pont-Neuf,  and  debouched  at  their  head  by  the  quai  de 
l'École. 


VICTORY.  ^©7 


XXIII. 


VICTORY. 


On  this  side  also  the  battle  was  terrific.  No  sooner  had 
Morgan,  boiling  with  impatience,  heard  Danican's  voice 
shouting  far  behind  him,  "Forward!"  than  he  fell  with 
the  velocity  of  an  avalanche  on  Carteaux's  troops.  The 
movement  was  so  rapid  that  the  latter  had  no  time  to  raise 
their  muskets  to  their  shoulders  and  fire.  They  fired 
as  they  could,  receiving  Morgan  and  his  men  on  their 
bayonets. 

The  battery  stationed  under  the  balcony  of  Charles  IX. 
came  very  near  being  taken,  so  unexpected  was  the  move- 
ment. The  Sectionists  were  not  ten  paces  from  the  muz- 
zles of  the  guns,  when  the  gunners  touched  their  matches, 
and  fired  instinctively. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  horrible  and  bloody 
swathe  cut  by  the  three  cannon  through  that  solid  body 
of  men,  close  pressed  against  each  other.  It  was  like  a 
breach  made  in  a  wall.  But  the  onset  of  the  Sectionists 
was  so  headlong  that  this  deadly  breach  did  not  arrest 
them.  But  almost  at  the  same  moment  the  roof  of  the 
colonnade  of  the  Louvre  swarmed  with  sharp-shooters, 
whose  fire  plunged  down  into  the  ranks  of  the  Sectionists. 

During  this  time  a  hand-to-hand  fight  was  taking  place 
on  the  whole  ground  beside  the  Louvre.  The  Sectionists 
were,  in  fact,  caught  between  two  fires.  All  the  houses 
in  the  rue  des  Poulies,  the  rue  des  Fossés-Saint-Germain- 
I'Auxerrois,  and  the  rue  des  Prêtres,  looked  upon  the 
garden  of  the  Infanta,  and  all  were  vomiting  death. 

Morgan  had  resolved  in  his  own  mind  to  take  Carteaux 
prisoner  himself.     But  by  the  time  he  reached  him  Car- 


368  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

teaux  had  put  himself  under  shelter  of  the  bayonets  of  his 
men.  For  an  instant  it  was  like  a  duel  to  the  death  along 
the  whole  line.  The  Sectionists,  repulsed  by  the  bayonets, 
fell  back  a  step,  reloaded,  fired  at  close  quarters,  and  then, 
seizing  the  muzzles  of  their  guns,  struck  with  the  butts  to 
open  the  belt  of  iron  that  surrounded  them,  —  all  to  no 
purpose;  nothing  could  break  it. 

Suddenly  Morgan  became  aware  that  something  had 
given  way  behind  him.  The  artillery,  which  continued 
to  thunder,  had  cut  his  column  in  two;  for  it  was  forced 
to  incline  to  the  right  in  order  to  maintain  itself  on  the 
ground.  A  wide,  open  space  now  intervened  between  the 
rue  de  la  Monnaie  and  the  Pout-Xeuf.  The  Sectionists, 
not  daring  to  move  to  the  quai  du  Louvre,  sheltered  them- 
selves behind  the  houses  of  the  rue  de  la  Monnaie  and  the 
parapet  of  the  Pont-Neuf. 

Morgan  was  therefore  forced  to  retreat;  but  as  he 
reached  the  highest  point  of  the  Pont-Neuf,  Coster  de 
Saint- Victor,  with  his  thousand  men,  came  up  at  a  run 
along  the  rue  Guénégaud.  The  two  young  men  recognized 
each  other,  gave  a  cry  of  joy,  and  carrying  their  men 
onward  by  their  own  example,  returned  with  renewed  fury 
to  the  quai  du  Louvre,  where  the  same  butchery  was 
renewed.  Bonaparte's  measures  had  been  so  admirably 
taken  that  the  Louvre  was  absolutely  unapproachable. 
Artillery,  musketry,  grenades  rained  death  on  all  sides. 
Folly  alone  could  continue  so  hopeless  a  struggle. 

Carteaux,  seeing  the  hesitation  of  the  Sectionists,  who 
were  really  sustained  onh'  by  the  daring  of  the  two  young 
men,  ordered  his  soldiers  to  fire  for  the  last  time,  and 
then  charge  upon  their  assailants  with  the  bayonet. 

The  Sectionists  were  annihilated.  More  than  half  were 
lying  on  the  ground.  In  the  last  rank  came  Morgan,  with 
a  fragment  of  his  sword  in  his  hand,  and  Saint-Victor, 
plugging  his  handkerchief  into  a  flesh  wound  in  his  thigh, 
like  two  lions  forced  to  retreat  before  the  guns  of  the 
hunters. 


VICTORY.  369 

By  half-past  six  o'clock  all  was  over.  Every  column 
was  beaten,  broken,  and  dispersed.  Two  hours  had  suf- 
ficed to  consummate  this  great  defeat.  Of  fifty  thousand 
Sectionists  who  had  taken  part  in  the  action,  barely  one 
thousand,  scattered  in  the  church  at  Saint-Roch,  the  Palais- 
Royal,  and  behind  the  barricade  in  the  rue  de  la  Loi,  held 
out.  Then,  as  darkness  would  soon  be  coming  on,  and 
Bonaparte  feared  lest  the  innocent  might  suffer  with  the 
guilty,  he  ordered  that  the  Sectionists  should  be  pursued 
to  the  Pont  de  Change  and  the  boulevards,  but  with  mus- 
kets loaded  with  powder  only.  Their  terror  was  so  great 
that  the  noise  was  enough  to  make  them  fly. 

At  seven  o'clock  Barras  and  Bonaparte  entered  the 
Convention  in  the  midst  of  the  deputies,  who  laid  down 
their  guns  to  clap  their  hands. 

"Roman  Senators,"  said  Barras,  "your  enemies  are  no 
more!     You  are  free;  and  the  ^S^ation  is  saved!  " 

Cries  of  "  Long  live  Barras  !  "  burst  forth  on  all  sides. 

But  he,  shaking  his  head,  commanded  silence. 

"It  is  not  to  me,  citizen-representatives,"  he  said,  "that 
the  victory  is  due;  it  is  to  the  prompt  and  sagacious 
arrangements  of  my  young  colleague  Bonaparte." 

As  the  whole  assembly  burst  into  cheers  of  gratitude, 
all  the  more  intense  because  the  danger  had  been  so 
imminent,  a  ray  of  the  setting  sun  falling  athwart  the 
arches  of  the  roof  made  a  halo  of  purple  and  gold  around 
the  bronzed  and  impassible  head  of  the  young  victor. 

"Do  you  see  that?"  said  Chenier  to  Tallien,  grasping 
his  arm,  and  believing  that  ray  an  omen.  "If  Brutus 
were  there  !  " 

The  same  evening,  Morgan,  safe  and  sound  by  a  miracle, 
passed  the  barrier  without  being  stopped,  and  took  the  road 
to  Besançon;  while  Coster  de  Saint-Victor,  thinking  he 
could  nowhere  be  so  well  hidden  as  in  the  house  of 
Barras's  mistress,  went  to  Aurélie  Saint-Amour,  and 
obtained  a  shelter. 

TOL.  I.— 24 


37Q  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXIV. 

THE   SWORD    OF    THE    VICOMTE    DE    BEAUHARNAIS. 

After  sucli  events  as  those  we  have  just  narrated,  when 
cannon  thunders  in  the  open  squares,  and  blood  has  flowed 
in  torrents  through  the  streets  of  a  capital,  great  disturb- 
ances are  felt  throughout  the  community,  which  does  not 
recover  from  their  effects  for  a  long  time. 

Though  the  following  day  sufficed  to  gather  the  dead 
bodies  from  the  streets  and  efface  all  outward  traces  of 
the  conflict,  the  people  continued  for  many  days  to  talk 
of  the  details  of  that  horrifying  struggle,  which  had  given 
back  to  the  Convention  —  that  is,  to  the  Revolution  and 
its  authors  —  the  authority  that  was  needed  to  establish 
the  new  institutions,  a  dread  of  which  had  produced  the 
events  we  have  narrated. 

The  Convention  so  fully  understood  by  the  morning  of 
the  14th  that  the  plenitude  of  its  power  was  restored  that 
it  hardly  inquired  what  had  become  of  the  beaten  Section- 
ists,  who,  indeed,  had  disappeared  leaving  naught  behind 
them  but  a  trail  of  blood,  which  one  day's  work  had 
effaced,  if  not  from  the  memory  of  the  citizens,  at  least 
from  the  pavement  of  the  streets. 

The  Convention  contented  itself  with  abolishing  the 
headquarters  of  the  National  Guard,  dissolving  the  chas- 
seurs and  the  grenadiers,  who  were  nearly  all  young  men 
with  their  hair  in  queues,  putting  the  National  Guard 
under  the  command  of  Barras,  or  rather  of  his  young 
colleague,  Bonaparte,  ordering  the  disarming  of  the  Sec- 
tions Le  Peletier  and  Theatre  Français,  and,  finally,  appoint- 
ing three  commissions  to  try  the  leaders  of  the  Sectionists^ 
nearly  all  of  whom  had  disappeared. 


Portrait  of  Eugene  Beauharnais. 


THE   SWORD   OF   THE   VICOMTE   DE   BEAUHARNAIS.      371 

Many  incidents  of  this  day,  whicli  left  in  the  minds  of 
Parisians  so  bloody  a  memory,  were  long  related.  Splen- 
did words  issued  from  the  lips  of  the  wounded,  or  rather 
from  the  wounds  themselves.  It  was  told  how  the 
wounded,  carried  to  the  Convention  itself,  and  into  the 
hall  of  Victory,  had  been  cared  for  by  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  Conventionals,  transformed  into  Sisters 
of  Mercy.  Barras  was  praised  for  having  known  so  well 
how  to  select  his  second  in  command;  and  they  glorified 
the  young  '  general  who,  all  unknown  the  night  before, 
had  suddenly  burst  upon  the  world  like  a  majestic  being 
amid  the  thunders  of  heaven. 

Bonaparte,  descending  from  this  pedestal  of  flame,  was 
now  general  of  the  Interior  ;  and  in  order  to  be  near  head- 
quarters, which  were  on  the  boulevard  des  Capucines,  in 
the  building  formerly  used  for  the  ministry  of  foreign 
aiïairs,  he  had  taken  two  rooms  in  the  hôtel  de  la  Concorde, 
rue  Neuve-des-Capucines.  It  was  in  one  of  these  rooms, 
which  he  used  as  an  office,  that  a  visitor  was  announced  to 
him  one  morning,  under  the  name  of  Eugène  Beauharnais. 
Though  much  harassed  by  petitioners  of  all  kinds,  Bona- 
parte had  not  yet  reached  the  point  when  he  protected 
himself  by  stern  exclusion  of  applicants.  Besides,  the 
name  Beauharnais  roused  only  pleasurable  ideas.  He 
accordingly  gave  permission  for  his  visitor  to  be  shown  in. 

Those  of  our  readers  who  have  already  seen  Eugène 
de  Beauharnais  in  Strasbourg  do  not  need  to  be  told 
that  he  was  now  a  handsome  young  man  of  sixteen.  His 
eyes  were  large,  his  hair  thick  and  black,  his  lips  red  and 
full,  his  teeth  white,  and  his  hands  and  feet  aa*istocratic, 
—  a  distinction  the  young  general  remarked;  and  with  all 
these  personal  qualities  he  possessed  the  sensitive  timidity 
which  becomes  youth,  especially  when  youth  has  a  favor 
to  solicit. 

From  the  moment  of  his  entrance,  Bonaparte's  eyes  had 
followed  him  with  the  deepest  attention,  —  a  circumstance 
which  contributed  not  a  little  to  intimidate  Eugène.     But 


372  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

suddenly,  as  if  the  lad  were  determined  to  shake  off  a 
shyness  which  was  unworthy  of  him,  he  raised  his  head, 
and  said,  drawing  himself  up  :  — 

"After  all,  I  don't  know  why  I  hesitate  to  make  you  a 
request  which  is  both  loyal  and  filial." 

"I  am  listening,"  said  Bonaparte. 

"I  am  the  son  of  the  Vicomte  de  Beauharnais." 

"The  citizen-general,"  said  Bonaparte,  gently. 

"Citizen-general,  if  you  insist  on  the  forms  of  address 
adopted  by  the  government  of  the  Republic." 

"I  insist  on  nothing,"  said  Bonaparte,  "except  that 
language  be  clear  and  to  the  point." 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  " I  came  to  ask  you,  citizen- 
general,  for  the  sword  of  my  father,  Alexandre  de  Beau- 
harnais, a  general  like  yourself.  I  am  sixteen  years  old; 
my  education  as  a  soldier  is  almost  completed.  It  is  my 
turn  now  to  serve  the  country.  I  want  to  wear  at  my  side 
the  sword  my  father  wore.  That  is  why  I  have  come  to 
ask  you  for  it.  " 

Bonaparte,  who  wanted  clear  and  straightforward  lan- 
guage, was  taken  with  this  firm  and  intelligent  answer. 

"  If  I  were  to  ask  you  for  a  few  details  about  yourself 
and  your  family,"  he  said,  "should  you  attribute  the 
request  to  curiosity,  or  to  the  interest  you  inspire  in  me?" 

"I  should  prefer  to  think,"  replied  Eugène,  "that  a 
rumor  of  our  misfortunes  had  reached  you,  and  that  I  owe 
to  your  kindness  the  interest  you  may  show  in  me." 

"  Your  mother  was  a  prisoner  also,  I  think?  "  questioned 
Bonaparte. 

"Yes;  and  she  was  saved  by  a  miracle.  We  owe  her 
life  to  the  citoyenne  Tallien  and  the  citizen  Barras." 

Bonaparte  reflected  a  moment.  "  How  does  your  father's 
sword  come  to  be  in  my  hands?"  he  said. 

"I  don't  say  it  is  exactly  in  your  hands,  general;  but  I 
say  that  you  can  get  it  returned  to  me.  The  Convention 
has  ordered  the  disarming  of  the  Section  Le  Peletier.  We 
live  in  our  old  house,  in  the  rue  Neuve-des-Mathurins, 


THE    SWORD    OF    THE    VICOMTE    DE    BEAUHARNAIS.      373 

which  General  Barras  recovered  for  us.  A  company  of 
men  came  and  demanded  all  the  arms  that  were  in  the 
house.  j\Iy  mother  gave  them  my  double-barrelled  gun,  a 
carbine  I  had  bought  at  Strasbourg,  with  which  I  fought 
the  Prussians,  and  my  father's  sword.  I  did  not  regret  the 
gun  or  the  carbine,  —  though  I  had  a  little  pride  about 
the  carbine,  —  but  I  regret,  and  shall  always,  I  acknowl- 
edge, regret  the  sword  that  fought  so  gloriously  in  France 
and  America." 

"  If  the  weapons  were  shown  to  you,  I  suppose  you  could 
recognize  them?"  said  Bonaparte. 

*'  Oh,  no  doubt  of  that  !  "  replied  Eugène. 

Bonaparte  rang  the  bell.     A  subaltern  entered  for  orders. 

"Accompany  citizen  Beauharnais,"  said  Bonaparte,  "to 
the  rooms  where  the  arms  taken  from  the  Sections  have 
been  deposited.  You  will  let  him  take  those  he  may  select 
as  belonging  to  him." 

So  saying,  he  held  out  to  the  youth  the  hand  which  was 
destined  to  lead  him  so  high.  In  his  ignorance  of  the 
future,  Eugène  darted  forward,  and  grasped  it  gratefully. 

"Ah,  citizen!"  he  said,  "my  mother  and  sister  shall  be 
told  how  good  you  have  been  to  me  ;  and  you  may  be  sure 
that  they  will  be  as  grateful  as  I  am." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Barras  came  in, 
without  being  announced. 

"So,  so!  "  he  said,  "here  are  two  of  my  friends." 

"I  have  just  been  telling  General  Bonaparte  what  we 
owe  to  you,"  said  Eugène;  "and  I  repeat  in  your  presence 
that  without  your  protection  the  widow  and  children  of 
Beauharnais  would  have  died  of  hunger."  : 

"Of  hunger!"  cried  Bonaparte,  laughing.  "None  but 
the  veterans,  set  aside  on  half-pay  by  citizen  Aubry,  are 
exposed  to  that  kind  of  deatli." 

"I  didn't  exactly  mean  it,  either,"  said  Eugène;  "for 
while  our  mother  was  a  prisoner  I  was  with  an  uphol- 
sterer, where  I  earned  my  food,  and  my  sister  was  with  a 
milliner,  who  gave  her  as  much  out  of  pity." 


374  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Well,"  said  Barras,  "the  bad  days  are  over,  and  the 
good  days  have  come.  What  brought  you  here,  my  little 
friend?  " 

Eugène  told  Barras  the  motive  of  his  visit. 

"Why  didn't  you  ask  me,"  said  Barras,  "instead  of 
disturbing  my  colleague?  " 

"Because  I  wanted  to  know  citizt-u-general  Bonaparte," 
rej)lied  Eugène.  "To  get  back  my  lather's  sword  by  his 
hand  seemed  to  me  a  good  omen." 

Bowing  to  the  two  generals,  he  Avent  off  Avith  the  sub- 
altern, much  less  shy  and  timid  in  departing  than  he  had 
been  on  entering. 


BND   OF   VOL  I. 


THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

VOLUME    II. 


THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC; 


OR, 


THE    "WHITES    AND    THE    BLUES. 


THE  THIRTEENTH  VENDÉMIAIRE  {Continued). 

XXV. 

THE   MAP    OF    MARENGO. 

The  two  generals  were  alone.  The  eyes  of  both  had  fol« 
lowed  the  young  man,  but  each  with  a  different  interest. 

"  That  boy  has  a  heart  of  gold,"  said  Barras,  as  the  door 
closed  on  Eugène.  "  He  went  off  alone  to  Strasbourg 
hoping  to  find  documents  which  would  exculpate  his 
father  before  the  Revolutionary  tribunal.  But  the  tribunal 
was  in  such  a  hurry  that  it  would  n't  wait  for  the  papers, 
and  took  off  his  father's  head  before  he  returned.  However, 
it  was  high  time  Eugène  left  Strasbourg  ;  if  it  had  n't  been 
for  Saint-Just  I  don't  know  what  might  have  happened  to 
him.  He  must  needs  meddle  in  a  theatre  with  one  of 
those  Strasbourg  bullies,  the  president  of  a  club,  named 
Tetrell,  who  was  head  and  shoulders  taller  than  he.  If 
the  audience,  who  saw  him  fighting  the  Prussians  in  the 
morning,  had  not  taken  his  side  vehemently  the  poor  boy 
would  have  been  done  for." 

"  J  presume,"  said  Bonaparte,  who  was  always  to  the 
point,  **  that  you  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  pay  me  this 


10  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

visit,  citizen  Barras,  merely  to  speak  of  this  young  man, 
especially  as  you  were  ignorant  that  he  was  here." 

"No,"  said  Barras,  "I  came  to  make  you  a  present." 

"  To  me  ?  " 

"  To  you,"  replied  Barras. 

Going  to  the  door  of  the  antechamber,  he  opened  it  and 
made  a  sign.  Two  men  entered,  bearing,  each  on  one 
shoulder,  like  two  carpenters  carrying  a  joist,  an  immense 
canvas,  rolled  and  tied. 

"  Good  Heavens  !  what 's  that  ?  "  asked  Bonaparte. 

"  You  mentioned  your  desire  to  carry  the  war  into  Italy, 
general." 

"  You  mean  that  I  mentioned  the  necessity  France  would 
some  day  be  under  to  decide  the  Austrian  question  in 
Italy." 

"  Well,  for  some  time  past,  Carnot,  who  thinks  as  you  do, 
has  been  engaged  in  getting  up  the  best  map  of  Italy  that 
there  is  in  the  world.  I  have  obtained  it  from  the  ministry 
of  war  ;  at  first,  they  had  a  great  mind  not  to  let  me  have  it, 
but  finally  they  gave  it  to  me,  and  I  now  give  it  to  you." 

Bonaparte  seized  Barras's  hand. 

"  That  is  indeed  a  gift,"  he  said,  —  "  above  all,  if  this 
map  is  given  to  me  as  to  one  who  may  make  use  of  it. 
Spread  it  oiit,"  he  called,  to  the  men  who  had  brought  it. 

The  latter  knelt  down,  untied  the  cords,  and  tried  to 
unroll  the  map,  but  the  room  was  not  half  large  enough  to 
contain  it. 

"  Well  done  !  "  exclaimed  Bonaparte  ;  "you  '11  force  me  to 
build  a  house  to  hold  that  map." 

"  Oh  !  "  replied  Barras,  "  when  the  time  to  use  it  comes, 
you  may  be  living  in  a  house  large  enough  to  hang  it  on  a 
panel  between  two  windows.  See,  however,  on  the  part 
that  is  unrolled,  not  a  rivulet,  not  a  torrent,  not  a  hill 
missing." 

The  porters  had  opened  the  map  as  far  as  possible,  and 
the  part  exposed  extended  beyond  the  gulf  of  Genoa  from 
Ajaccio  to  Savona. 


THE    MAP   OF    MAEENGO.  11 

"By  the  bye,"  said  Bonaparte,  ''isn't  it  somewhere  about 
Cervoni  that  Schërer,  Masséna,  and  Kellermann  ought  to 
be?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Barras,  "  and  we  have  had  news  of  them  tliis 
very  day.  How  could  I  have  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  ? 
Augereau  has  defeated  the  enemy  brilliantly  at  Loano. 
Masséna  and  Joubert,  whom  Kellermann  persisted  in  keep- 
ing with  him  in  spite  of  their  removal  by  the  Committee 
of  Public  safety,  showed  splendid  courage." 

"  It  is  not  there  !  it  is  not  there  !  "  muttered  Bonaparte. 
"  What  good  does  it  do  to  strike  a  limb  ?  None  !  The  heart 
is  the  place  to  strike,  —  Milan,  Mantua,  Verona.  Ah  !  if 
ever  — " 

"  Ever  what  ?  "  asked  Barras. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Bonaparte. 

Then,  turning  his  attention  full  on  Barras,  he  said  :  — 

"  Are  you  certain  of  being  one  of  the  five  Directors  ?  " 

"  Yesterday,"  said  Barras,  lowering  his  voice,  "  the  Con- 
ventionals  met  to  discuss  the  choice  of  the  members  of  the 
Directory.  They  argued  a  long  time,  and  finally  the  names 
selected  at  this  first  trial  were  :  mine,  then  Rewbell,  Sieyès 
third,  and  lastly  La  Reveillère-Lepeaux  and  Letourneur. 
But  one  of  the  five  will  assuredly  not  accept." 

"  Which  ?  "  asked  Bonaparte. 

"  Sieyès." 

"  Who  do  they  think  will  take  his  place  ?  " 

"Probably  Carnot." 

"  That  will  be  no  loss.  But  why  not  have  placed  among 
all  those  civilians  a  name  that  represents  the  army,  — 
Kléber,  Pichegru,  Hoche,  or  Moreau  ?  " 

"  They  are  afraid  of  the  military  influence." 

Bonaparte  laughed. 

"  So  be  it  !  "  he  said.  "  When  Csesar  took  possession  of 
Rome  he  was  neither  a  tribune  nor  a  consul  ;  he  returned 
from  the  Gauls,  after  winning  eighty  battles  and  subduing 
three  hundred  peoples.  That 's  what  dictators  do.  Onl}-, 
none  of  the  men  you  have  just  named  are  strong  enough 


12  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

to  play  Caesar's  part.  If  the  five  men  you  speak  of  are 
appointed,  things  will  go  very  well.  You  have  popularity, 
initiative  and  action;  you  will  be,  naturally,  the  leader 
of  the  Directory.  Rewbell  and  Letourneur  are  workers 
who  will  do  the  drudgery,  while  you  direct.  La  Reveillere- 
Lepeaux  is  virtuous  and  honest  ;  yon  can  moralize  together. 
As  for  Carnot,  I  really  don't  know  what  you  can  do  with 
him." 

''  He  can  continue  to  make  plans  and  organize  victories," 
said  Barras. 

*'  Plans,  as  many  as  he  likes  ;  but  if  I  am  ever  anything, 
don't  trouble  yourself  to  send  any  of  them  to  me,  that 's 
all." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  it  is  not  with  a  map,  compasses,  and  red,  blue, 
and  green  headed  pins  that  battles  are  won,  but  by  instinct, 
glance,  genius.  I  'd  like  to  know  if  they  sent  Hannibal, 
from  Carthage,  the  plans  of  the  battles  of  Trébia  and 
Thrasymene  and  Cannes.  You  make  me  shrug  my 
shoulders  with  3'our  plans.  Do  you  know  what  you 
ought  to  do  ?  You  ought  to  give  me  all  the  details  of 
the  battle  of  Loano  ;  and,  inasmuch  as  the  map  is  open  at 
that  very  place,  it  would  interest  me  very  much  to  follow 
the  movements  of  both  armies,  ours  and  the  Austrians." 

Barras  drew  from  his  pocket  a  note  written  with  the 
laconic  brevity  of  a  telegraphic  despatch  and  gave  it  to 
Bonaparte. 

^'  Patience  !  "  he  said.  "  You  have  already  got  the  map  ; 
perhaps  the  command  will  follow." 

Bonaparte  was  eagerly  reading  the  despatch. 

"  Good  !  "  said  he,  "  Loano  is  the  key  of  Genoa,  and 
Genoa  is  the  storehouse  of  Italy."  Then  he  went  on  read- 
ing. "  Massena,  Kellermann,  Joubert,  what  men  !  what 
could  n't  one  do  with  them  !  He  who  could  unite  them 
and  bind  them  together  would  be  a  Jupiter  Olympus, 
holding   the    thunderbolt." 

He  muttered  the  names  of  Hoche,  Kleber  and  Moreau, 


THE   MAP   OF   MARENGO.  13 

and  then,  compass  in  hand,  he  lay  down  on  the  huge  map, 
only  half  of  which  was  uncovered.  There  he  studied  the 
marches  and  counter-marches  which  had  led  to  the  battle 
of  Loano.  When  Barras  took  leave,  Bonaparte  paid 
scarcely  any  heed  to  him,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  strategic 
combinations. 

"  It  can't  be  Scherer,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  who  arranged 
and  executed  that  plan,  nor  Carnot  either  ;  the  attack 
was  too  impromptu.  It  was  a  man  of  the  first  class,  — 
Massena,  undoubtedly." 

He  had  been  lying  perhaps  half  an  hour  on  that  map  — 
from  which  he  was  never  again  to  be  separated  —  when 
the  door  opened  and  a  servant  announced  :  — 

"  The  citoyenne  Beauharnais." 

Absorbed  as  he  was,  Bonaparte  thought  the  words  were, 
"  The  citizen  Beauharnais  ;  "  and  supposing  it  to  be  the  same 
young  man  he  had  already  seen,  who  had  returned  to  thank 
him  for  the  favor  granted,  he  called  out  :  — 

"  Show  him  in  !  show  him  in  !  " 

A  moment  later,  and  there  appeared  at  the  door,  not  the 
young  man  he  had  seen,  but  a  beautiful  woman  about 
twenty-eight  years  of  age.  Much  astonished,  he  half  rose; 
and  it  was  thus,  with  one  knee  on  the  ground,  that  Bona- 
parte beheld  for  the  first  time  Marie-Rose- Joséphine 
Tascher  de  la  Pagerie,  widow  Beauharnais. 


14  THE   FIKST   KEPUBLIC. 


XXVI. 

MARIE-ROSE-JOSÉPHINE    TASCHER    DE    LA    PAGERIB, 
VICOMTESSE    DE    BEAUHARNAIS. 

Bonaparte  was  struck  with  admiration.  Madame  de  Beau- 
harnais  was,  as  we  have  said,  about  twenty-eight  years  of 
age,  of  undeniable  beauty  and  perfect  grace  of  mannei  ; 
exhaling  from  all  things  in  and  about  her  that  sweet  some- 
thing which  may  have  been  the  perfume  which  Venus  gave 
to  her  elect  to  inspire  love. 

Her  eyes  were  dark,  her  nose  straight,  her  mouth  smiling  ; 
the  oval  of  her  face  was  flawless,  her  throat  gracefully 
poised;  her  waist  was  flexible  and  undulating,  her  arm 
perfect,  her  hand  beautiful.  Nothing  could  be  more  win- 
ning than  her  Creole  accent,  of  which  only  just  enough 
remained  to  evidence  her  tropical  birth. 

As  we  see  by  her  maiden  name,  Madame  de  Beauharnais 
was  of  noble  birth.  Born  in  Martinique,  her  education  had 
been  that  of  all  Creoles,  —  that  is  to  say,  it  was  left  to  her- 
self ;  but  a  delightful  disposition  of  heart  and  mind  had 
made  Mademoiselle  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie  one  of  the  most 
charming  women  in  the  world.  Her  kind  heart  had  early 
taught  her  that  the  negroes,  though  they  did  have  wool 
instead  of  hair,  were  men,  to  be  pitied  because  the  greed 
and  greater  strength  of  the  whites  had  torn  them  from  their 
native  land  and  placed  them  among  a  people  who  always 
oppressed,  and  often  killed  them.  The  first  sight  that  struck 
her  youthful  mind  was  that  of  these  unfortunates,  disunited 
as  families,  placed  in  gangs  as  laborers,  toiling  beneath  an 
almost  vertical  sun,  fearing  the  cane  of  an  overseer,  and 
tilling  a  soil  which  their  blood  and  sweat  were  fertilizing, 
but  not  for  their  own  benefit. 


MARIE-ROSE- JOSÉPHINE   TASCHER   DE   LA   PAGERIE,       15 

Her  young  mind  asked  itself  wliy  this  race  was  held  out- 
side of  the  common  laws  of  the  human  species  ;  why  they 
vegetated  thus,  naked,  homeless,  without  property,  without 
honor,  without  liberty  ;  and  she  told  herself  it  was  to  enrich 
their  selfish  masters  that  from  infancy  to  death  they  were 
condemned  without  hope  of  any  kind  to  perpetual  misery. 
Thus  the  pity  of  this  young  Joséphine  made  the  plantation 
of  her  father  a  paradise  for  the  slaves. 

She  was  about  fourteen  when  she  met  at  the  house  of  her 
aunt  Renaudiu,  a  young  officer  of  noble  birth  and  great 
merit,  —  the  Vicomte  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais.  The  one 
possessed  in  her  person  everything  that  wins  love  ;  the  other 
had  in  his  heart  everything  that  prompts  to  give  it.  They 
loved  each  other,  therefore,  with  the  abandonment  of  two 
young  persons  who  have  mutually  realized  the  dream  of  a 
sister  soul. 

"  I  have  chosen  you,"  said  Alexandre,  pressing  her  hand 
tenderly. 

"  And  I  —  I  have  found  you,"  answered  Joséphine,  giving 
him  her  forehead  to  kiss. 

Aunt  Eenaudin  thought  it  would  be  going  against  the 
decrees  of  Providence  to  oppose  such  a  love.  The  parents 
of  both  lovers  were  in  France.  It  was  necessary  to  obtain 
their  consent,  and  Aunt  Renaudin  never  doubted  that  she 
could  do  so.  Obstacles  came,  however,  from  the  Messieurs 
Beauharnais,  father  and  uncle  of  the  lover.  In  a  moment  of 
fraternal  emotion  they  had  pledged  themselves  to  unite 
their  own  children.  Josephine's  lover  was  to  marry  his 
cousin. 

The  father  of  Alexandre  was  the  first  to  yield.  Hearing 
of  the  despair  of  the  young  lovers,  he  gave  way,  little  by 
little,  and  finally  agreed  to  tell  his  brother  of  the  change 
in  their  plans.  But  the  brother  was  a  man  of  less  kind- 
heartedness,  and  he  insisted  on  the  promise  made  to  him  by 
his  brother,  declaring  that  if  the  latter  broke  his  word,  a 
thing  unworthy  of  a  gentleman,  he  would  never  break  his 
by    consenting    to    the    change.     The    viscount's    father, 


16  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

regretting  deeply  any  quarrel  with  his  brother,  nevertheless 
preferred  to  accept  his  hatred  rather  than  cause  the  misery 
of  his  son.  He  not  only  renewed  his  promise  of  consent 
but  he  consented  on  the  spot. 

Tlien  it  was  that  Joséphine,  who  was  later  to  give  the 
world  so  sublime  an  example  of  self-sacrifice  and  triumphant 
devotion,  rehearsed,  so  to  speak,  that  great  act  of  the 
divorce  by  begging  her  lover  to  give  her  up  for  the  peace 
and  tranquillity  of  his  family.  She  declared  to  Alexandre 
that  she  wished  to  have  an  interview  with  his  uncle. 
When  this  was  arranged  she  went  to  Monsieur  de  Beau- 
harnais's  house. 

"Monsieur,"  she  said,  "you  do  not  like  me  and  you  can- 
not like  me  ;  and  yet,  in  order  to  dislike  a  woman  you  must 
know  her.  What  do  you  know  of  me  to  justify  the  hatred 
you  feel?  What  has  caused  it;  what  justifies  it?  It  can- 
not be  because  of  my  attachment  to  the  viscount  :  that 
attachment  is  pure,  legitimate,  and  reciprocated.  We  were 
ignorant  when  we  first  loved  each  other  that  social  agree- 
ments and  interests  were  against  us,  and  made  that  first 
avowal  of  our  love  a  wrong.  Well,  monsieur,  if  all  this  ill- 
will  comes  from  that  marriage,  arranged  by  my  aunt  and 
sanctioned  by  Alexandre's  father,  I  am  willing,  together 
■with  Alexandre,  to  think  more  of  your  wishes  than  of  our 
own  happiness  ;  but  if  we  have  the  dreadful  courage  to 
renounce  our  marriage,  I  hope  you  will  not  still  withhold 
your  friendship  from  your  nephew  or  continue  to  regard  me 
as  worthy  of  contempt." 

The  Marquis  de  Beauharnais,  much  astonished  at  this 
address,  looked  at  Mademoiselle  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie  for  a 
moment  without  answering.  Then,  doubting  the  sincerity 
of  her  words,  he  said,  covering  his  own  with  a  varnish  of 
politeness  :  — 

"  Mademoiselle,  I  have  heard  great  praises  of  the  beauty 
and  intelligence,  and,  more  especially,  the  noble  sentiments 
of  Mademoiselle  de  la  Pagerie  ;  but  these  merits  which 
justify  my  nephew,  or  at  least  excuse  him,  I  find  all  the 


MARIE-ROSE-JOSÉPIIINK    TASCHER   DE    LA   PAGERIE.      17 

more  objectionable  because  so  powerful.  Permit  me  to  say, 
mademoiselle,  that  your  action  of  to-day  — a  very  singular 
action  —  leaves  me  but  one  supposition  in  order  to  avoid 
suspecting  you  of  consummate  selfishness  or  great  dissimu- 
lation ;  and  that  is  that  you  have  ceased  to  love  my  nephew, 
or  to  be  loved  by  him." 

The  viscount,  who  was  in  the  next  room,  hearing  these 
words,  could  contain  himself  no  longer,  but  rushed  into  the 
salon. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  monsieur,"  he  said  to  his  uncle.  "  She 
loves  me  and  I  love  her  more  than  ever.  But,  as  she  is  an 
angel,  she  Avants  to  sacrifice  herself  and  sacrifice  me  to  our 
family.  You  have  just  proved  to  me,  monsieur,  by  that 
speech  in  which  you  misunderstand  her  and  calumniate  her 
how  little  worthy  you  are  of  the  sacrifice  she  wants  to  make. 
Come,  Joséphine,  come  ;  the  last  concession  I  will  make  is 
to  ask  my  father  to  judge  for  us.  What  he  decides,  that 
we  will  do." 

The  Comte  de  Beauharnais,  when  he  heard  of  this,  took 
the  hands  of  the  two  young  people,  saying,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes  :  — 

"Never  were  you  more  worthy  of  each  other  than  since 
you  have  been  willing  to  renounce  your  love.  You  ask  ray 
decision.  My  decision  is  that  you  be  married  ;  my  hope  is 
that  you  will  be  happy." 

Eight  days  later  Mademoiselle  de  la  Pagerie  was  the 
Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais.  Nothing  came  to  trouble  the 
happiness  of  their  union  until  the  Revolution  broke  out. 
The  Vicomte  de  Beauharnais  was  among  those  who  took 
sides  with  it  ;  but  he  was  mistaken  in  thinking  that  the 
avalanche  could  be  guided.  It  came  down  like  a  torrent, 
overthrowing  all  before  it,  and  bearing  him,  with  so  many 
others,  to  the  scaffold. 

VOL.  II.  —  2 


18  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXVII. 

WHERE    AN    ANGEL    SETS    HER    FOOT    MIRACLES    ARE    DONE. 

The  evening  before  the  day  on  which  the  Vicomte  de 
Beauharnais  went  to  the  scaffold,  he  wrote  as  follows  to  his 
wife  :  — 

Night  of  the  6  th  to  7  th  Thermidor. 
In  the  Conciergerie. 

I  may  give  a  few  moments  to  tenderness,  to  tears,  to  regrets,  and 
then  I  must  turn  my  mind  to  the  glory  of  my  fate,  and  the  grand 
thoughts  of  immortality.  When  you  receive  this  letter,  O  my  Jose- 
phine !  your  husband  will  long,  in  the  language  of  this  lower  world, 
have  ceased  to  be  ;  he  will  already  have  tasted  the  joys  of  true  life  in 
the  bosom  of  God.  You  see  therefore  that  there  is  nothing  to  weep 
for  ;  it  is  the  madmen  who  survive  him  for  whom  tears  should  flow  ; 
for  they  are  doing  evil  which  they  cannot  repair. 

But  let  us  not  blacken  these  last  supreme  moments  with  the  mem- 
ory of  their  guilt  ;  I  would  rather  turn  to  thoughts  of  our  union  and 
the  joys  I  have  had  in  the  cloudless  happiness  that  you  have  given 
me.  Our  union  has  lasted,  as  it  were,  for  a  day  only,  and  that 
thought  forces  me  to  sigh  ;  but  the  day  has  been  serene  and  bright, 
and  I  know  the  goodness  of  the  Providence  that  gave  it.  To-day 
that  same  Providence  removes  me  before  my  time,  and  that  is  also 
one  of  its  benefits  ;  for  a  man  of  heart  cannot  live  happy,  or  even 
without  remorse,  when  he  sees  the  universe  a  prey  to  wicked  men.  I 
should  be  thankful  to  be  taken  from  their  midst  were  it  not  for  the 
dear  and  precious  ones  T  am  forced  to  abandon  to  their  mercies.  Yet, 
if  the  thoughts  of  the  dying  are  really  presentiments,  I  have  one  now 
in  my  heart  which  assures  me  that  these  butcheries  are  drawing  to 
an  end,  and  that  the  butchers  will  succeed  the  victims. 

I  resume  these  half  illegible  and  ill-written  lines  which  the  coming 
of  my  gaolers  interrupted.  I  have  just  passed  through  a  terrible 
ordeal  ;  under  all  other  circumstances  I  could  not  have  borne  it  and 


WHERE   AN   ANGEL   SETS   HEK   FOOT.  19; 

still  lived.  But  why  quarrel  with  the  inevitable?  Common-sense 
demands  that  we  choose  a  better  course. 

While  my  hair  was  being  cut,  I  bethought  me  of  buying  back  a 
portion  of  it  to  send  to  my  dear  wife  and  children,  as  a  last  memorial 
of  me  ;  but  that  thought  breaks  my  heart,  and  the  tears  are  damp- 
ing my  paper. 

Farewell,  all  that  I  love  !  Love  each  other,  talk  of  me,  and  never 
forget  that  the  glory  of  dying  a  victim  to  tyrants  and  a  martyr  to 
liberty,  gives  lustre  even  to  a  death  on  the  scaffold. 

Arrested  herself  as  we  have  said,  the  Vicomtesse  de 
Beauharnais,  expecting  her  death  at  every  moment,  wrote 
to  her  children,  as  her  husband  had  written  to  her.  She 
ended  a  long  letter,  which  we  have  at  this  moment  in  our 
hand,  with  these  words  :  — 

As  for  me,  my  children,  I  am  about  to  die,  as  your  father  died, 
the  victim  of  passions  he  always  opposed,  and  which  in  the  end 
destroyed  him.  I  leave  this  life  without  hatred  toward  his  mur- 
derers or  mine  ;  I  despise  them. 

Honor  my  memory  by  adopting  my  sentiments.  I  bequeath  to 
you,  as  your  inheritance,  the  glory  of  your  father,  and  the  good  name 
of  your  mother  which  a  few  unfortunates  have  blessed  ;  I  leave  you 
also  our  love  and  our  blessing. 

As  Madame  de  Beauharnais  ended  the  writing  of  this 
letter,  cries  were  heard  from  the  court  of  the  prison: 
"  Death  to  Robespierre  !  Long  live  Liberty  !  "  This  was 
on  the  morning  of  the  10th  Thermidor. 

Three  days  later  Madame  la  Vicomtesse  de  Beauharnais, 
thanks  to  the  friendship  of  Madame  Tallien,  was  set  at 
liberty  ;  and  a  month  later,  thanks  to  the  influence  of  Barras, 
such  of  her  property  as  had  not  been  sold  was  restored  to 
her.  Among  that  property  was  the  house  in  the  rue 
Neuve-des-Mathurins,  No.  11. 

On  the  morning  of  which  we  write,  seeing  her  son  (who 
had  said  not  a  word  to  her  of  what  he  meant  to  do)  enter 
her  room  with  his  father's  sword  in  his  hand,  and  hearing 
from  him  how  that  sword  had  been  returned,  she,  in  a 


àCf  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

moment  of  enthusiasm,  darted  from  the  house,  and  having 
only  the  boulevard  to  cross,  went  just  as  she  was  to  thank 
the  young  general,  to  whom  her  apparition  now  caused  the 
greatest  surprise. 

Bonaparte  held  out  his  hand  to  the  beautiful  young 
widow,  more  than  usually  beautiful  in  the  black  clothes  she 
had  worn  since  her  husband's  death,  making  her  a  sign  to 
step  over  the  map  and  come  to  the  side  of  the  room  which 
was  not  encumbered  with  it.  Joséphine  replied  that  she 
had  come  on  foot,  and  that  her  boots  being  muddy  she 
feared  to  injure  the  map.  Bonaparte  insisted.  Aided  by 
the  young  general's  hand  she  sprang  across  the  Gulf  of 
Genoa,  but  the  point  of  her  pretty  foot  touched  the  little 
town  of  Voltri  and  made  a  mark. 

A  sofa  was  in  the  room  ;  Joséphine  sat  down  upon  it,  and 
near  her  stood  Bonaparte,  with  one  knee  on  a  chair  against 
the  back  of  which  he  leaned  in  an  attitude  partly  of 
respect  and  partly  of  admiration.  He  was,  at  first,  a  good 
deal  embarrassed.  Nevertheless,  though  he  had  little  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  and  had  seldom  even  spoken  to  a  woman, 
he  knew  there  were  three  subjects  always  acceptable  to  the 
female  heart:  their  native  land,  and  youth,  and  love. 
Accordingly  he  began  to  talk  to  Madame  de  Beauharnais  of 
Martinique,  her  parents,  and  her  husband. 

An  hour  went  by  and,  careful  economizer  of  time  that  he 
was,  he  did  not  even  notice  the  lapse  of  it.  Not  much  was 
said  of  the  present  moment,  though  the  young  general 
observed  that  Madame  de  Beauharnais  was  evidently  in 
relations  with  the  persons  in  power  and  all  those  who  had 
any  chance  of  obtaining  it,  —  her  husband  having  held  a 
central  position  among  the  reactionists  who  were  now  in 
favor. 

Madame  de  Beauharnais,  on  her  side,  was  far  too  much  a 
woman  of  the  world  not  to  perceive  at  once,  piercing  through 
his  native  originality,  the  powerful  intellect  of  the  con- 
queror of  the  13th  Vendémiaire.  That  victory,  so  rapid  and 
so   complete,  had  made   Bonaparte  the   hero  of  the  day. 


WHERE   AN   ANGEL   SETS   HER   FOOT.  21 

Much  had  been  said  of  him  in  Madame  de  Beauharnais's 
circle  ;  curiosity  as  well  as  gratitude  had  led  her  to  make 
this  visit.  She  found  Barras's  protégé  far  above,  intellec- 
tually, what  Barras  had  represented  him,  so  that  when  her 
servant  came  to  say  that  Madame  Tallien  was  awaiting  her 
to  go  she  knew  lohere.,  she  cried  out  :  — 

"  But  that  appointment  was  not  till  half -past  five  !  " 

*'  It  is  now  six,  madame,"  said  the  footman. 

"  Heavens  !  "  she  cried,  "  what  can  I  tell  her  ?  " 

"  Tell  her,  madame,"  replied  Bonaparte,  "  that  your  con- 
versation had  such  charms  for  me  that  I  obtained  by 
entreaties  half  an  hour  too  much  of  your  time." 

"  Bad  advice,"  said  Joséphine  ;  "  it  would  make  me  tell  a 
lie  to  excuse  myself." 

"  But  why  is  Madame  Tallien  so  impatient  ?  "  said 
Bonaparte,  seeking  a  means  to  prolong  the  visit  still  fur- 
ther.    "  Has  she  another  9th  Thermidor  on  hand  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  not  ashamed  to  confess  it,  I  would  tell  you 
where  we  are  going." 

"  Tell  me,  madame  ;  I  should  be  only  too  delighted  to 
share  a  secret  of  yours,  especially  a  secret  you  dare  not 
confess." 

"  Are  you  superstitious  ?  " 

"  I  am  a  Corsican,  madame." 

"  Ah  !  then  you  will  not  laugh  at  me.  Yesterday  we  were 
at  Madame  Gohier's,  and  she  happened  to  tell  us  that  in 
passing  through  Lyon  about  ten  years  ago,  she  had  had  her 
fortune  told  by  a  Demoiselle  Lenormand.  Among  other 
predictions  which  were  realized,  the  seeress  told  her  that 
she  would  love  a  man  whom  she  would  not  marry,  and 
marry  one  whom  she  did  not  love,  but  that  after  her  mar- 
riage there  would  come  to  her  the  strongest  love  for  her 
husband.  That  has  been  her  history  from  beginning  to  end. 
Now,  she  has  just  heard  that  this  sibyl,  who  goes  by  the 
name  of  Lenormand,  lives  in  Paris  in  the  rue  de  Tournon, 
No.  7.  Madame  Tallien  and  T  are  eaten  up  with  curi- 
osity to  see  her;  and  we  have  arranged  to   meet  at  my 


22  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

house,  disguise  ourselves  as  grisettes,  and  go  there  to-night. 
The  appointment  was  made  for  half-past  five  ;  it  is  now, 
you  tell  me,  six  ;  I  must  go  and  make  my  excuses  to  Ma- 
dame Tallien,  change  my  dress,  and,  if  not  too  late,  go  with 
her  to  Mademoiselle  Lenormand.  I  confess  that  we  hope 
by  disguising  ourselves  carefully  to  lead  the  sibyl  into 
making  some  great  blunder." 

"  But  don't  you  need  a  companion,  madame,  —  a  lock- 
smith, blacksmith,  armorer  ?  " 

"No,  citizen,  to  my  sincere  regret,"  replied  Madame  de 
Beauharnais.  "I  am  already  indiscreet  in  telling  you  all 
this  ;  the  indiscretion  would  be  greater  still  if  I  made  you 
a  third  in  the  adventure." 

"Your  will  be  done,  madame  —  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven,"  replied  Bonaparte. 

Offering  his  hand  to  lead  her  to  the  door,  he  avoided  the 
map  that  lay  there,  on  which  her  foot,  light  as  it  was,  had 
left  an  imprint. 


THE   SEERESS.  23 


XXVIII. 

THE    SEEKESS. 

Madame  de  Beauharnais  found  Madame  Tallien  waiting 
for  her. 

Madame  Tallien  (Thérèse  Cabarus)  was,  as  all  the  world 
knows,  the  daughter  of  a  Spanish  banker.  Married  to 
Monsieur  Davis  de  Fontenay,  councillor  to  the  parliament 
of  Bordeaux,  she  was  soon  divorced  from  him.  This  was  in 
'94,  when  the  Terror  was  at  its  height.  Thérèse  Cabarus 
wished  to  rejoin  her  father  in  Spain,  so  as  to  escape  the 
misfortunes  of  which  exile  was  much  the  least.  Stopped  at 
the  gates  of  the  town,  she  was  taken  before  Tallien,  who 
fell  passionately  in  love  with  her  at  first  sight.  She  used 
that  passion  to  save  a  great  many  victims.  In  those  days, 
more  especially,  it  was  love  which  rescued  from  death,  its 
worst  enemy. 

Tallien  was  recalled.  Thérèse  followed  him  to  Paris, 
where  she  was  arrested  ;  from  the  depths  of  her  prison  it 
was  she  who  brought  about  the  9th  Thermidor.  Kobes- 
pierre  overthrown,  she  was  free.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  her  j&rst  care  on  getting  out  of  prison  was  to  obtain 
the  release  of  her  companion,  Joséphine. 

Since  then  Joséphine  Beauharnais  and  Thérèse  Tallien 
had  been  inseparable.  One  woman  alone  could  dispute  with 
them  in  Paris  the  palm  of  beauty.  She  was,  as  we  have 
said,  Madame  Récamier. 

This  evening,  then,  the  two  friends  had  agreed  to  go 
disguised  as  waiting-maids  and  under  false  names,  to  the 
fashionable  seeress,  Mademoiselle  Lenormand.  In  a  few 
moments  the  two  fine  ladies  were  transformed  into  charming 


24  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

grisettes.  The  frills  of  their  lace  caps  fell  over  their  fore- 
heads, and  the  hoods  of  their  little  mantles  were  drawn 
about  their  heads.  Dressed  in  light  cotton  gowns,  and 
shod  with  low  shoes  with  paste  buckles,  and  stockings  with 
pink  or  green  clocks,  they  jumped  into  the  hackney-coach 
they  had  ordered  to  be  brought  through  the  great  gate  of 
the  courtyard  in  the  rue  des  Mathurins,  and  in  a  rather 
trembling  voice,  such  as  all  women  use  when  they  do  any- 
thing outside  of  their  habitual  lives,  Madame  de  Beauharnais 
said  to  the  coachman  :  — 

"  Eue  de  Tournon,  No.  7." 

The  coach  stopped  at  the  house  indicated  ;  the  coachman 
got  off  his  box,  opened  the  carriage  door,  received  his  fare, 
and  rapped.  The  gate  opened.  The  two  women  hesitated 
a  moment.  Their  hearts  seemed  to  fail  them.  But  Madame 
Tallien  pushed  her  friend,  and  Joséphine,  light  as  a  bird, 
sprang  to  the  pavement  without  touching  the  carriage  step  ; 
Madame  Tallien  followed  her  ;  together  they  crossed  the 
alarming  threshold,  and  the  gate  closed  behind  them. 

They  then  found  themselves  under  a  porte-cochere,  the 
arch  of  which  extended  to  the  court-yard.  At  the  farther 
end  could  be  read  on  a  window-shutter,  lighted  by  a  hang- 
ing-lamp, the  words,  "Mademoiselle  Lenormand,  publisher." 
The  two  ladies  went  toward  the  lamp,  which  they  now  saw 
lighted  a  little  portico  with  four  steps  as  well  as  the  window- 
shutter.  They  went  up  the  four  steps  and  found  themselves 
in  front  of  the  porter's  lodge. 

"  The  citoyenne  Lenormand  ?  "  said  Madame  Tallien, 
taking  the  initiative,  although  she  was  the  younger  of 
the  two. 

"  Ground  floor,  first  door  to  left,"  answered  the  porter. 

Madame  Tallien  went  first,  holding  up  her  already  short 
petticoats,  and  showing  a  leg  which,  though  it  compared  in 
shape  with  those  of  the  finest  Greek  statues,  had  humiliated, 
itself  that  evening  to  a  garter  below  the  knee,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  grisettes.  Madame  de  Beauharnais  followed, 
admiring  the  ease  of  her  friend,  but  quite  unable  to  attain 


THE    SEERESS.  25 

to  that  amount  of  self-possession  herself.  Madame  Tallien, 
having  reached  the  door,  rang  the  bell  ;  an  old  servant 
answered  it. 

The  new-comers,  whose  faces  recommended  them,  but  not 
their  clothes,  were  closely  scrutinized  by  the  footman,  who 
merely  made  them  a  sign  to  sit  down  in  the  outer  room. 
The  second  room,  a  salon,  through  which  the  man  passed  to 
aunounce  them  to  his  mistress,  who  was  in  a  third  room, 
was  occupied  by  two  or  three  ladies,  whose  rank  in  life  it 
was  difficult  to  define,  for  at  that  period,  all  ranks  were 
apparently  levelled  to  that  of  the  bourgeoisie.  To  the  great 
astonishment  of  the  two  friends,  the  door  of  the  salon  pre- 
sently opened  and  Mademoiselle  Lenormand  herself  came 
out  and  addressed  them. 

"  Mesdames,"  she  said,  "  have  the  goodness  to  come  into 
the  salon." 

The  pretended  grisettes  looked  at  each  other  in  astonish- 
ment. Mademoiselle  Lenormand  was  supposed  to  make  her 
predictions  in  a  sort  of  waking  trance.  Could  it  be  that  her 
faculty  of  second  sight  had  enabled  her  to  recognize,  before 
she  saw  them,  two  women  of  the  world  whom  the  valet  had 
announced  to  her  as  grisettes  ?  It  is  true  that  at  the  same 
moment  Mademoiselle  Lenormand  requested  one  of  the  two 
ladies  who  was  waiting  in  the  salon  to  pass  forward  into 
the  consulting-room. 

Madame  Tallien  and  Madame  de  Beauharnais  began  to 
examine  the  room  into  which  they  were  now  introduced. 
Its  chief  ornaments  were  two  portraits,  one  of  Louis  XVI., 
the  other  of  Marie  Antoinette.  These  portraits,  in  spite 
of  the  terrible  days  just  passed,  in  spite,  too,  of  the  fact 
that  the  two  heads  there  represented  had  fallen  on  the 
scaffold,  these  portraits  had  never  been  moved  from  their 
places,  and  continued  to  be  the  symbols  of  the  respect 
which  Mademoiselle  Lenormand  had  always  testified  to 
the  originals. 

After  these  portraits,  the  most  remarkable  object  in  the 
salon  was  a  long  table  covered  with  a  cloth,  on  which  gilt» 


26  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

tered  necklaces,  bracelets,  rings,  and  different  pieces  of 
silverware  elegantly  chased  ;  the  greater  part  of  the  silver- 
ware belonged  to  the  eighteenth  century.  All  these  articles 
were  presents  offered  to  the  sibyl  by  persons  to  whom  she 
had  made  agreeable  predictions,  which  were,  no  doubt, 
realized. 

Before  long  the  door  of  the  consulting-room  opened,  and 
the  last  of  the  two  ladies  who  preceded  them  was  called 
in.  The  two  friends  were  then  alone.  A  quarter  of  an 
hour  passed,  during  which  time  they  talked  to  each  other 
in  whispers.  Then  the  door  opened,  and  Mademoiselle 
Lenormand  reappeared. 

"  Which  of  you  ladies,"  she  asked,  "  will  come  in  first  ?  " 

"  Can  we  not  go  in  together  ?  "  asked  Madame  de  Beau- 
harnais,  eagerly. 

"  Impossible,  madame,"  said  the  seeress  ;  "  I  have  imposed 
upon  myself  a  strict  rule  forbidding  me  to  read  the  fortunes 
of  one  person  before  another." 

"  May  we  know  why  ?  "  asked  Madame  Tallien  with  her 
usual  vivacity,  not  to  say  indiscretion. 

"■  Because  it  once  happened  that  I  made  the  portrait 
of  a  man  who  proved  to  be  the  husband  of  one  of  the  two 
ladies  I  admitted  together." 

"  Go  in,  go  in,  Thérèse,"  said  Joséphine,  pushing  Madame 
Tallien. 

"  I  am  always  the  one  to  sacrifice  myself,"  answered 
the  latter.  Then,  with  a  smile  to  her  friend,  she  added, 
laughing  :  — 

"  So  be  it  !  I  risk  all." 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  at  this  period  of  her  life 
was  a  woman  somewhere  between  twenty-four  and  twenty- 
nine  years  of  age  ;  short  and  stout  in  figure,  and  con- 
cealing with  difficulty  that  one  shoulder  was  larger  than  the 
other.  She  wore  a  turban  adorned  with  a  bird  of  Para- 
dise, a  fashion  of  the  day.  Her  hair  fell  in  long  curls  on 
either  side  of  her  cheeks.  She  wore  two  skirts,  one  above 
the  other;  the  upper  and  shorter  one  came  just  below  the 


THE    SEERESS.  27 

knee,  and  was  gray  in  color;  the  lower  skirt  was  long  and 
made  a  little  train  behind  her  ;  this  was  cherry -colored. 

Near  her,  on  a  stool,  was  her  favorite  greyhound,  Aza. 
The  table  on  which  she  did  her  marvels  was  a  plain  round 
table  with  a  green  cloth  top  and  drawers,  in  which  she  kept 
her  cards.  The  room  was  of  the  same  length  as  the  salon, 
but  narrower.  On  either  side  of  the  door  were  book- 
shelves of  oak,  containing  numerous  volumes.  Facing 
the  sibyl  was  an  arm-chair,  in  which  the  consulting  person 
was  seated.  Between  that  person  and  the  seeress  lay  an 
iron  wand,  which  was  called  the  divining-rod;  at  the  end 
turned  toward  the  consulting  person  was  a  little  iron 
snake.  The  opposite  end  was  made  like  the  handle  of  a 
whip  or  cane. 

This  was  what  Madame  de  Beauharnais  saw  during  the 
short  time  that  the  door  remained  open  to  allow  her  friend 
to  pass  in. 

Joséphine  took  a  book,  sat  down  by  a  lamp  and  tried  to 
read  ;  but  her  attention  was  presently  distracted  by  the 
sound  of  the  bell  and  the  arrival  of  another  visitor.  This 
was  a  young  man  dressed  in  the  last  fashion  of  the  Incroy- 
ables. What  with  his  hair,  v/hich  was  combed  down  and 
cut  to  the  line  of  his  eyebrows,  the  "  dog's-ear  "  locks  which 
fell  to  his  shoulders,  and  the  folds  of  his  cravat,  which  came 
nearly  up  to  his  cheek-bones,  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish 
more  than  the  line  of  a  straight  nose,  a  refined  and  resolute 
mouth,  and  two  black  eyes  as  brilliant  as  diamonds. 

He  bowed  without  speaking,  twirled  his  knotty  cane  two 
or  three  times  around  his  head,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
Incroyables,  hummed  a  few  false  notes  as  if  he  were  begin- 
ning or  ending  some  tune,  and  sat  down  in  the  corner  of  the 
room.  But,  little  as  that  griffin  eye  (as  Dante  would  have 
called  it)  could  be  seen,  Madame  de  Beauharnais  was  begin- 
ning to  feel  uneasy  at  this  tête-à-tête  (though  the  Incroyable 
sat  at  the  farther  extremity  of  the  salon)  when  Madame 
Tallien  came  out. 

"■  Ah  !  my  dear  !  "  she  cried,  not  noticing  the  new-comer 


28  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

in  his  dark  corner  ;  "  my  dear,  go  in  at  once  !  She  is  a 
delightful  person  !     Guess  what  she  has  told  me." 

"  That  you  will  be  loved  and  beautiful  till  you  are  fifty 
years  old,  and  excite  passions  all  your  life  —  " 

Then,  as  Madame  Tallien  made  a  sign  implying  "That's 
not  it  !  "  she  added  :  — 

"  —  and  have  a  fine  house,  and  lackeys,  and  carriages 
and  horses,  white  or  cream-colored." 

"  I  shall  have  all  that,  my  dear,  and  much  more.  I  'm  to 
be  a  princess." 

"  I  congratulate  you  sincerely,  my  beautiful  princess," 
replied  Joséphine.  "  I  see  there  is  nothing  left  for  me  to 
get;  and  as  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  be  a  princess,  and  my 
pride  already  suffers  because  I  am  not  as  handsome  as  you, 
1  will  not  go  in  to  see  your  sibyl,  lest  she  should  say  some- 
thing to  make  us  quarrel." 

"  Joséphine,  you  are  not  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  No.  But  I  'm  not  going  to  expose  myself  to  the  inferi- 
ority that  threatens  me  on  all  sides.  You  may  have  your 
principality,  but  let  us  get  away  !  " 

She  made  a  movement  to  leave  the  room,  dragging  Ma- 
dame Tallien  with  her  ;  but  at  that  instant  a  hand  was  laid 
gently  on  her  arm,  and  she  heard  a  voice  saying  :  — 

"  Stay,  madame,  and  when  you  have  heard  me  you  may 
find  you  have  nothing  to  envy  in  your  friend's  fate." 

Joséphine  was  seized  with  a  great  desire  to  know  what  it 
could  be  that  would  keep  her  from  envying  a  princess  ;  she 
therefore  yielded,  and  followed  Mademoiselle  Lenormand 
into  the  consulting-room. 


THE    OCCULT   ART.  29 


XXIX. 

THE    OCCULT    ART. 

Mademoiselle  Lenobmand  made  a  sign  to  Josephine  to 
take  the  chair  which  Madame  Tallien  had  just  left;  then 
she  drew  a  fresh  pack  of  cards  from  her  drawer,  possibly  to 
prevent  the  destiny  given  by  the  last  pack  from  influencing 
that  of  the  present.  Then  she  looked  fixedly  at  Madame 
de  Beauharnais. 

"You  and  your  friend  have  tried  to  deceive  me,  madame," 
she  said,  "  by  wearing  the  clothes  of  servants.  But  I  am  a 
waking  somnambulist.  I  saw  you  start  from  a  house  in  the 
centre  of  Paris  ;  I  saw  your  hesitation  about  crossing  my 
threshold;  and  I  also  saw  you  in  the  antechamber  when 
your  proper  place  was  the  salon,  and  I  went  there  to  bring 
you  in.  Don't  try  to  deceive  me  now;  answer  my  ques- 
tions frankly  ;  if  you  want  the  truth,  tell  the  truth." 

Madame  de  Beauharnais  bowed. 

"  Question  me,  and  I  will  answer  truly,"  she  said. 

"  What  animal  do  you  like  best  ?  " 

"A  dog." 

"  What  flower  do  you  prefer  ?  " 

"  The  rose." 

"  What  perfume  is  most  agreeable  to  you  ?  " 

"  That  of  the  violet." 

The  seeress  placed  a  pack  of  cards  before  Madame  de 
Beauharnais,  which  was  nearly  double  the  size  of  an  ordi- 
nary pack.  These  cards  had  been  lately  invented,  and  were 
called  "the  grand  oracle." 

"  Let  us  first  find  where  you  are  placed,"  said  the  seeress. 

Turning  over  the  cards,  she  moved  them  about  with  her 


30  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

middle  finger  until  she  found  "  the  consultant  ;  "  that  is  to 
say,  the  image  of  a  dark  woman,  with  a  white  gown  and 
deep  embroidered  flounce,  and  an  overdress  of  red  velvet 
forming  a  train  behind,  the  whole  on  a  rich  background. 
This  card  was  lying  between  the  eight  of  hearts  and  the 
ten  of  clubs. 

"Chance  has  placed  you  well,  madame.  See,  the  eight 
of  hearts  has  three  different  meanings  on  three  different 
lines.  The  first,  which  is  the  eight  of  hearts  itself,  repre- 
sents the  stars  under  whose  conjunction  you  were  born  ; 
the  second,  an  eagle  seizing  a  toad  from  a  pond  over  which 
it  hovers  ;  the  third,  a  woman  near  a  grave.  Listen  to  what 
I  deduce  from  that  first  card,  madame.  You  are  born  under 
the  influence  of  Venus  and  the  Moon.  You  have  just  expe- 
rienced a  great  satisfaction,  almost  equal  to  a  triumph. 
That  woman  dressed  in  black  beside  a  grave  indicates  that 
you  are  a  widow.  On  the  other  hand,  the  ten  of  clubs 
pledges  the  success  of  a  rash  enterprise  of  which  you  are 
not  yet  aware.  It  would  be  impossible  to  have  cards  of 
better  augury." 

Then,  shuffling  the  cards,  but  leaving  the  "consultant" 
out.  Mademoiselle  Lenormand  asked  Madame  de  Beauhar- 
hais  to  cut  them  with  her  left  hand,  and  then  draw  out 
fourteen  of  them,  and  place  those  fourteen  in  any  order  she 
liked  beside  the  "consultant,"  going  from  right  to  left  as 
the  Eastern  peoples  do  in  their  writings. 

Madame  de  Beauharnais  obeyed,  cut  the  pack,  and  laid 
the  cards  to  the  right  of  the  "  consultant."  Mademoiselle 
Lenormand  followed  the  cards  with  her  eyes,  paying  far 
more  attention  to  them  than  did  Madame  de  Beauharnais 
herself  as  she  laid  them  down. 

"Really,  madame,"  she  said,  "you  are  a  privileged  per- 
son. I  think  you  were  right  not  to  be  frightened  away  by 
the  fate  I  predicted  for  your  friend,  brilliant  as  it  was. 
Your  first  card  is  the  five  of  diamonds  ;  beside  the  five  of 
diamonds  is  that  beautiful  constellation  of  the  Southern 
Cross,  which  is  invisible  to  us  in  Europe.    The  main  subject 


THE   OCCULT   ART.  31 

of  that  card,  which  represents  a  Greek  or  Mohammedan  trav- 
eller, indicates  that  you  were  born  either  in  the  East  or  in 
the  colonies.  The  parrot,  or  the  orange-tree,  which  forms 
the  third  subject,  makes  me  think  it  was  the  colonies.  The 
flower,  which  is  a  veratrum,  very  common  in .  Martinique, 
leads  me  to  think  you  were  born  on  that  island." 

"  You  are  not  mistaken,  madame." 

"  Your  third  card,  the  nine  of  diamonds,  indicating  long 
and  distant  journeys,  implies  that  you  left  that  island  young. 
The  convolvulus,  which  is  pictured  at  the  bottom  of  this 
card,  represents  a  woman  seeking  a  support,  and  makes  me 
suppose  you  left  the  island  to  be  married." 

"  That  is  also  true,  madame." 

"  Your  fourth  card  is  the  ten  of  spades,  and  that  indi- 
cates the  loss  of  your  hopes  ;  nevertheless,  the  flowers  of 
the  saxifrage  which  are  on  the  card  authorize  me  to  say 
that  those  griefs  will  pass  away,  and  that  a  fortunate  issue 
—  a  marriage,  probably  —  has  succeeded  those  distresses 
which  at  one  time  seemed  to  exclude  all  hope." 

"  If  you  had  known  my  whole  life,  madame,  you  could 
not  speak  more  correctl_y." 

"That  encourages  me,"  said  the  sibyl;  "for  I  see  strange 
things  on  your  cards,  madame,  which  I  should  refuse  to 
decipher  if  to  my  doubts  you  had  added  your  denials.  Here 
is  the  eight  of  spades.  Achilles  drags  Hector  chained  to 
his  car  round  the  walls  of  Troy  ;  lower  down,  a  woman 
kneels  beside  a  grave  ;  your  husband,  like  the  Trojan  hero, 
must  have  died  a  violent  death,  probably  on  the  scaffold. 
But  here  is  a  singular  thing  :  on  the  same  card  opposite  to 
the  weeping  woman  are  the  bones  of  Pelops  placed  cross- 
wise above  the  talisman  of  the  moon.  That  means  "  fortu- 
nate misfortune  ;  "  in  other  words,  a  great  misfortune  will 
be  succeeded  by  a  higher  fortune." 

Joséphine  smiled. 

"  That  belongs  to  the  future  ;  I  cannot  answer  as  to 
that." 

"  You  have  two  children  ?  " 


32  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Yes,  madame." 

"  A  sou  and  daughter  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  See,  on  this  card,  the  teu  of  diamonds,  your  son  takes, 
without  consulting  you,  a  step  of  the  utmost  importance,  — 
not  in  itself,  but  in  the  results  which  it  will  bring  about. 
At  the  bottom  of  this  card,  that  oak  which  you  see  there  is 
one  of  the  talking  oaks  of  Dordona.  Jason,  lying  beneath 
its  shade,  listens.  What  does  he  hear  ?  The  voice  of  the 
future,  which  tells  him  that  your  son  laid  hands  upon  it 
when  he  took  that  step.  The  next  card,  the  knave  of  dia- 
monds, shows  you  Achilles,  disguised  as  a  woman,  at  the 
court  of  Lycomenes.  The  glitter  of  a  sword-blade  will 
make  him  a  man.  Is  there  any  affair  of  a  sword  between 
your  son  and  some  other  person  ?  " 

"Yes,  madame." 

"  Well,  then,  here,  at  the  top  of  this  card,  Juno  in  a  cloud 
calls  to  him,  '  Courage,  young  man  !  '  Help  will  never  fail 
him.  I  am  not  sure,  but  on  this  card,  which  is  no  other 
than  the  king  of  diamonds,  I  think  I  see  your  son  address- 
ing a  mighty  soldier  and  obtaining  all  he  wants.  This  four 
of  diamonds  represents  you,  madame,  at  the  moment  when 
your  son  relates  to  you  the  success  of  the  step  he  took. 
The  flowers  you  see  at  the  bottom  of  the  card  order  you  not 
to  be  daunted  by  any  difficulties,  and  proclaim  that  you 
will,  sooner  or  later,  obtain  all  you  desire.  And  here, 
madame,  is  the  eight  of  spades,  which  is  a  sure  indication 
of  marriage.  Placed  as  it  is  next  to  the  eight  of  hearts,  — 
that  is  to  say,  near  the  eagle  rising  to  the  skies  with  a  toad 
in  his  talons,  —  the  eight  of  hearts  indicates  that  this  mar- 
riage will  lift  you  above  even  the  loftiest  spheres  of  social 
life.  But,  if  you  doubt  it,  here  is  the  six  of  hearts,  which, 
unfortunately,  seldom  accompanies  the  eight,  —  that  six  of 
hearts  in  which  the  alchemist  is  looking  at  his  stone  now 
turned  to  gold;  in  other  words,  common  life  changed  to 
a  life  of  honor,  nobleness,  and  high  employments.  See, 
among  these  flowers,  is  the  same  convolvulus,  which  entwines 


THE   OCCULT   ART.  33 

a  broken  lily  :  tliat  means,  madame,  that  you  will  succeed, 
you  who  seek  a  support,  you  will  succeed  —  how  shall  I 
tell  you  this  ?  —  to  all  that  is  highest  and  noblest  and  most 
powerful  in  France,  —  to  the  broken  lily  :  you  will  succeed 
that  lily  in  a  new  sphere  ;  passing,  as  the  ten  of  spades  has 
shown,  over  battlefields  where  —  see  on  that  card  ■■ —  Ulysses 
and  Diomed  drive  the  white  horses  of  Rhesus,  placed  under 
guardianship  of  the  talisman  of  Mars." 

The  sibyl  paused  for  an  instant,  and  then  went  on  :  — 

*'  When  you  reach  that  point,  madame,  you  will  have  the 
respect  and  the  tender  regard  of  every  one.  You  will  be 
the  wife  of  that  Hercules  strangling  the  lion  in  the  lorest 
of  Nemaea;  that  is  to  say,  a  useful  and  courageous  man 
exposing  himself  to  all  dangers  for  the  good  of  his  country. 
The  flowers  which  crown  you  are  lilacs,  arums,  immortelles  ; 
for  you  will  combine  in  your  own  person  true  merit  and 
perfect  kindness." 

She  rose,  with  a  movement  of  enthusiasm,  caught  Madame 
de  Beauharnais's  hand,  and  knelt  at  her  feet. 

"  Madame,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  know  your  name,  I  do 
not  know  your  rank,  but  I  know  your  future.  Madame, 
remember  me  when  you  are  —  empress." 

"  Empress  !     I  ?     You  are  mad,  my  dear." 

"  Eh,  madame  !  do  you  not  see  that  your  last  card,  the 
one  that  leads  the  fourteen  others,  is  the  king  of  hearts  ; 
that  is  to  say,  the  great  Charlemagne,  who  bears  in  one 
hand  a  sword,  in  the  other  a  globe  ?  Do  you  not  see  on 
the  same  card  a  man  of  genius  who,  with  a  book  in  his  hand 
and  a  map  at  his  feet,  meditates  on  the  destinies  of  the 
world?  And,  lastly,  see,  on  two  desks  opposite  to  each 
other,  the  books  of  Wisdom  and  the  laws  of  Solon  ;  those 
books  prove  that  your  husband  will  be  not  only  a  great 
conqueror,  but  a  great  lawgiver." 

Improbable  as  this  prediction  was,  Joséphine  was  seized 
with  vertigo  ;  her  head  swam,  her  eyes  were  dazzled,  her 
forehead  was  covered  with  drops  of  perspiration,  a  shudder 
ran  through  her  whole  frame. 

VOL.   II.  —  3 


34  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Impossible  !  impossible  !  impossible  !  "  she  murmured, 
throwing  herself  back  in  her  chair. 

Then,  suddenly  remembering  that  her  consultation  must 
have  lasted  over  an  hour,  and  that  Madame  Tallien  was 
waiting  for  her,  she  hastily  gave  her  purse  to  Mademoiselle 
Lenormand,  without  counting  what  was  in  it,  darted  into 
the  salon,  seized  Madame  Tallien  by  the  waist,  and  dragged 
her  from  the  room,  scarcely  acknowledging  the  bow  which 
the  young  Incroyable  made  to  the  two  ladies  as  they  passed 
him. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Madame  Tallien,  stopping  short  on  the 
portico. 

"  The  woman  is  crazy,"  replied  Madame  de  Beauharnais. 

"  What  did  she  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  first  what  she  told  you  ?  " 

"Oh!  as  for  me,  my  dear,  I  have  already  got  used  to 
my  fate,"  replied  Madame  Tallien,  laughing  ;  "  she  told  me 
I  should  be  a  princess." 

"Well,  I  am  not  yet  used  to  mine,"  said  Joséphine  ;  "she 
predicted  that  I  should  be  —  an  empress." 

And  the  two  grisettes  got  back  into  their  hackney-coach. 


THE   FALSE   INCROYABLE.  35 


XXX. 

THE    FALSE    INCROYABLE. 

As  we  have  already  said,  the  two  young  women,  quite  beside 
themselves  with  their  own  predictions,  paid  little  or  no 
attention  to  the  young  dandy  v/ho  was  awaiting  his  turn. 

During  the  long  interview  of  Madame  de  Beauharnais 
with  the  seeress,  Madame  Tallien  had  several  times  tried 
to  discover  to  what  class  of  Incroyable  the  young  man, 
who  was  waiting  in  the  same  room  with  her,  belonged. 
But  he,  not  desirous,  as  it  seemed,  to  engage  in  a  conversa- 
tion toward  which  she  made  some  advances,  pulled  his 
hair  to  his  eyebrows,  the  cravat  to  his  chin,  the  dog's-ears 
over  his  cheeks,  and  settled  himself  with  a  sort  of  low  grunt 
in  his  chair,  like  a  man  who  was  not  sorry  to  spend  his 
period  of  waiting  in  a  nap. 

The  long  absence  of  Madame  de  Beauharnais  passed  in 
this  way,  —  Madame  Tallien  pretending  to  read,  and  the 
Incroyable  appearing  to  sleep.  But  they  had  hardly  left 
the  room,  his  eyes  following  them  as  long  as  possible,  before 
he  was  at  the  door  of  the  consulting-room. 

The  dress  of  the  new  applicant  was  so  grotesque  that  a 
smile  came  to  the  lips  of  the  seeress. 

''  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  affecting  the  ridiculous  speech 
of  the  dandies  of  the  day,  "  will  you  have  the  goodness  to 
tell  me  what  fate,  good  or  bad,  is  reserved  for  the  person 
of  your  humble  servant  ?  He  does  not  conceal  from  you 
that  that  person  is  sufficiently  dear  to  him  to  make  all  the 
agreeable  things  you  may  have  to  say  very  acceptable. 
He  may  add,  however,  that  having  great  command  over 
himself,  he  can  listen  without  annoyance  to  any  catastrophes 
with  which  it  may  please  you  to  threaten  him." 


36  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  looked  at  the  young  man  with 
a  moment's  uneasiness.  Was  his  easy  manner  mere  foolish- 
ness, or  had  she  to  deal  with  one  of  those  young  fellows  of 
the  period  who  took  pleasure  in  scoffing  at  sacred  things, 
and  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  attack  the  sibyl  of 
the  rue  de  Tournon,  anchored  as  she  was  in  the  confidence 
of  the  nobles  of  the  faubourg  Saint-Germain  ? 

"  You  wish  for  your  horoscope  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes,  my  horoscope,  —  a  horoscoj)e,  such  as  the  oracles 
drew  at  the  birth  of  Alexander,  son  of  Philip,  King  of 
Macedon.  Without  pretending  to  reach  the  fame  of  the 
conqueror  of  Porus  and  the  founder  of  Alexandria,  I  do 
expect  to  some  day  make  a  noise  in  the  world.  Have  the 
goodness  to  prepare  what  is  necessary,  and  give  me  the  very 
utmost  of  what  you  call  Hhe  great  game.'  " 

"  Citizen,"  said  Mademoiselle  Lenormand,  ''  I  have  various 
methods  of  proceeding." 

"  Let  us  hear  what  they  are,"  replied  the  Incroyable, 
protruding  his  stomach,  sticking  his  thumbs  into  the 
armholes  of  his  waistcoat,  and  letting  his  cane  hang  by 
the  cord  that  fastened  it  to  his  wrist. 

"  Well,  for  example,  I  prophesy  by  the  whites  of  eggs, 
by  the  analysis  of  coffee-grounds,  by  chequered  or  algebraic 
cards,  by  alectryomancy  —  " 

"■  I  should  like  alectryomancy,"  said  the  young  man  ; 
"  but  for  that,  we  need  a  live  cock  and  plenty  of  grain  ; 
have  you  got  them  ?  " 

'*  I  have  them,"  replied  Mademoiselle  Lenormand.  "  I 
work  also  by  catoptromancy." 

"But  I  do  not  see  a  Venice  mirror,"  said  the  Incroyable, 
looking  about  him.  "  As  far  as  I  remember,  it  is  by  a  drop 
of  water  thrown  on  a  Venetian  mirror,  that  catoptromancy 
is  performed." 

"  Exactly,  citizen  ;  you  seem  to  understand  my  art." 

"  Faugh  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man.  "  Yes,  yes,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  studied  occult  science." 

"  I  have  also  chiromancy,"  said  the  seeress. 


THE    FALSE    INCROYABLE.  37 

"  Ah  !  that  suits  me  !  All  the  other  practices  are  more 
or  less  diabolical,  whereas  chiromancy  has  never  been  cen- 
sured b}'  the  Catholic  Church,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  science 
founded  on  principles  drawn  from  Holy  Scripture  and  trans- 
cendental philosophy.  There  are  still  other  methods, 
however;  don't  forget  hydromancy,  citoyenne,  which  is 
worked  by  means  of  a  ring  thrown  into  water  ;  or  pyromancy, 
which  consists  in  putting  a  victim  into  the  fire  ;  or  geo- 
mancy,  which  is  done  by  cabalistic  dots  made  at  random  on 
the  ground,  or  on  paper  ;  or  capnomancy,  where  fate  lies 
m  the  smoke  of  poppies  rising  from  live  coal  ;  or  coscino- 
mancy,  in  which  you  use  an  axe,  a  sieve,  and  tongs  ;  and, 
lastly,  anthropomancy,  for  which  you  sacrifice  a  human 
victim." 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  looked  at  her  client  with  some 
uneasiness.  Was  he  talking  seriously  ?  Was  he  laughing 
at  her,  or  was  he  hiding  under  a  false  frivolity  of  manner 
a  personality  which  he  did  not  wish  to  have  recognized  ? 

"  Then,"  she  said,  "  you  prefer  chiromancy  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Incroyable,  "  for  then  I  should  fear 
nothing  for  the  safety  of  my  soul  were  you  the  devil  him- 
self, or  (and  he  bowed  gallantly)  his  wife,  Persephone; 
inasmuch  as  the  patriarch  Job  has  said  —  thirty-eighth 
chapter,  tenth  verse  —  '  God  hath  sealed  signs  upon  the 
hand  of  every  man,  that  all  men  may  know  their  destiny.' 
Solomon,  that  wise  king,  added  :  ''  Length  of  days  is  in  the 
right  hand,  and  the  lines  of  the  left  hand  tell  of  riches  and 
glory.'  Moreover,  we  in  find  the  prophet  Isaiah  :  '  Thine 
hand  telleth  the  number  of  thy  years.'  There  is  my  hand. 
Tell  me  what  it  says."  r 

The  Incroyable  pulled  off  his  glove  and  bared  a  delicate, 
fine  hand,  although  it  was  rather  thin  and  slightly  sunburned. 
The  proportions  of  it  were  perfect,  —  the  fingers  long,  and 
tapering  gradually  ;  no  ring  was  on  them. 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  took  it,  looked  at  it  attentively, 
and  then  her  eyes  returned  to  the  face  of  the  young  man. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  "  it  must  have  tried  your  sense  of 


38  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

dignity  to  dress  yourself  in  that  manner  ;  and  you  must 
have  been  influenced  in  so  doing  by  either  a  great  curiosity, 
or  the  first  monitions  of  an  invincible  feeling.  You  are 
wearing  a  disguise,  and  not  your  usual  clothing.  Your 
hand  is  that  of  a  warrior  accustomed  to  wield  the  sword, 
and  not  to  twirl  the  club  of  an  Incroyable,  or  the  switch  of 
a  dandy.  Neither  is  your  natural  language  that  which  you 
are  affecting  at  this  moment.  Cease  these  attempts  at  con- 
cealment. In  my  presence  all  disguise  is  useless.  You 
know  of  the  things  you  have  just  mentioned  to  me,  but  you 
have  never  studied  those  sciences  except  as  you  found  them 
in  other  sciences  which  you  think  more  important.  You 
have  a  turn  for  occult  science,  it  is  true  ;  but  your  future 
is  not  that  of  Nicolas  Flamel  or  Cagliostro.  You  asked  me 
in  joke  for  a  horoscope  such  as  was  drawn  at  the  birth  of 
Alexander  of  Macedon.  It  is  too  late  to  draw  your  birth 
horoscope  ;  but  I  can  tell  you  what  has  happened  to  you 
since  your  birth  and  what  will  happen  to  you  until  your 
death." 

''Faith!  you  are  right,"  said  the  young  man,  in  his 
natural  voice.  "  I  admit  I  am  ill  at  ease  in  this  travesty 
of  manhood  ;  and  my  language,  you  say  truly,  is  not  that  I 
am  accustomed  to  use.  Had  you  been  deceived  by  my 
clothes  and  my  accent,  I  should  have  told  you  nothing,  and 
have  gone  away  shrugging  my  shoulders.  The  discovery 
you  have  made,  in  spite  of  my  efforts  to  mislead  you,  shows 
me  very  plainh^  there  is  something  in  your  art.  It  is  tempt- 
ing God,  I  know,"  he  continued,  in  a  gloomy  tone,  "  to  try 
to  wring  from  Him  the  secrets  of  the  future  ;  but  where 
is  the  man  who,  feeling  within  him  the  power  of  will,  would 
not  desire  to  meet  the  events  which  fate  holds  in  store  for 
him  forearmed  by  some  knowledge,  more  or  less  complete,  of 
the  future.  You  have  said  that  you  could  tell  me  my  past 
life.  A  few  words  will  suffice  as  to  that  ;  it  is  the  future  I 
am  more  eager  to  know.     I  repeat;  here  is  my  hand." 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  rested  her  eyes  for  a  moment 
on  the  inside  of  that  hand  ;  then  raising  her  head,  she  said: 


THE   FALSE    INCROYABLE.  39 

"  You  were  born  on  an  island,  of  a  noble  family  which  is 
neither  rich  nor  illustrious.  You  left  your  country  to  be 
educated  in  France  ;  you  have  entered  the  service  in  a  special 
arm,  —  the  artillery.  You  have  won  a  victory  very  useful  to 
this  country,  which  has  ill-rewarded  you.  For  a  moment 
you  thought  of  turning  your  back  on  France.  Fortunately, 
the  obstacles  were  many  and  they  wearied  you.  You  have 
just  come  again  into  the  light  by  a  striking  deed  which 
assures  you  the  protection  of  the  future  Directory.  This 
day  —  recollect  the  date  —  though  it  has  apparently  been 
marked  by  none  but  ordinary  events,  will  be  shown  here- 
after to  have  been  one  of  the  most  important  of  your  life. 
Do  you  now  believe  in  my  art,  and  is  it  your  wish  that  I 
continue  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  the  false  Incroyable,  "  and  to  give 
you  every  facility,  I  begin  by  appearing  to  you  in  my  natural 
face." 

So  saying,  he  took  off  his  hat,  threw  aside  his  wig,  untied 
his  cravat,  and  showed  that  head  of  bronze  which  might 
have  been  modelled  from  a  Greek  coin.  His  brows  frowned 
slightly,  his  hair  lay  smooth  upon  his  temples,  his  eye  was 
fixed  and  haughty,  almost  hard,  and  his  voice,  no  longer 
disguised  in  the  slipshod  gutturals  of  the  Incroyable,  no 
longer  devoid  of  the  courtesy  with  which  a  man  addresses 
a  woman,  now  said,  in  a  tone  of  command,  as  he  gave  his 
hand  for  the  third  time  to  the  seeress  :  — 

"  Read  it  !  " 


40  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXXI. 

ALL    HAIL,    MACBETH  !    THAT    SHALT    BE    Kllfa 
HEREAFTER. 

Mademoiselle  Lenormand  took  the  hand  held  out  to  her 
with  a  feeling  that  was  almost  respectful. 

''  Do  you  wish  to  know  the  whole  truth  ?  "  she  asked, 
"  or,  like  a  weak  woman  to  whose  nervous  irritations  you 
are  yourself  subject,  do  you  desire  me  to  tell  you  that 
which  is  good  and  conceal  the  evil." 

"Say  all,"  replied  the  young  man,  in  a  curt  tone. 

"Then  remember  the  order  you  have  given  me,"  said 
Mademoiselle  Lenormand  (slightly  emphasizing  the  word 
"  order").  "  Your  hand  is  the  most  complete  of  any  that 
I  have  seen  ;  it  presents  a  mixture  of  all  virtuous  senti- 
ments and  human  weaknesses  ;  it  shows  me  the  most  heroic 
of  all  characters  and  the  most  undecided.  The  greater 
part  of  the  signs  that  are  within  it  are  dazzling  with 
light,  others  indicate  the  gloomiest  darkness,  and  the  most 
painful.  The  enigma  I  am  about  to  read  to  you  is  far 
more  difficult  of  interpretation  than  that  of  the  Theban 
sphinx,  for  though  you  will  be  greater  than  Œdipus,  you 
will  be  more  unfortunate.  Am  I  to  continue  ?  or  shall 
I  stop  here  ?  " 

"  Continue,"  he  said. 

"I  obey  you"  (and  again  she  emphasized  the  word, 
"obey"). 

"We  will  begin  with  the  most  powerful  of  the  seven 
planets  :  all  seven  are  imprinted  on  your  hand,  and  placed 
according  to  their  several  dispositions.  Jupiter  is  here^ 
at  the  extremity  of  the  forefinger.     We  will  take  Jupiter 


ALL   HAIL,    MACBETH  !  41 

There  may  come  a  certain  confusion  from  this  method  of 
proceeding  ;  but  out  of  chaos,  we  will  bring  light. 

"Jupiter,  then,  is  at  the  extremity  of  your  right  fore- 
finger :  which  means  that  you  will  be  the  friend  and  enemy 
of  the  great  and  the  fortunate  of  this  century.  On  the  third 
joint  of  that  finger  observe  this  fan-shaped  mark  :  it  means 
that  you  will  levy  tribute  on  peoples  and  kings.  See,  on 
the  second  joint,  those  lines  like  rails,  breaking  off  at  the 
seventh  rail  ;  that  foretells  that  you  will  occupy  six  succes- 
^sive  dignities  and  stop  at  the  seventh." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  what  those  dignities  are  ?  " 

"No.  All  I  can  tell  you  is  that  the  last  is  the  title 
Emperor  f>f  the  West,  now  borne  by  the  house  of  Austria. 
I  continue  :  — 

"  Above  the  rails,  do  you  see  that  star  ?  it  shows  that  a 
guardian  spirit  will  watch  over  you  until  your  eighth  lustre  ; 
that  is,  until  you  are  forty.  At  that  age  you  will  seem  to 
forget  that  Providence  gave  you  a  companion  ;  you  will 
abandon  that  companion,  in  consequence  of  a  mistaken 
estimate  of  human  prosperity.  The  two  signs  which  are 
placed  directly  below  that  star,  and  which  resemble,  one  a 
horse-shoe,  the  other  a  chess-board,  indicate  that  after  long 
and  constant  prosperity  you  will  infallibly  fall  from  the 
highest  summit  man  has  ever  reached  ;  and  you  will  fall 
more  by  the  influence  of  women  than  by  the  power  of  men. 
Four  lustres  will  see  the  end  of  your  triumphs  and  of  your 
power. 

"  This  other  sign,  at  the  base  of  Jupiter,  accompanied 
by  these  three  stars,  signifies  that  during  the  last  three 
years  of  your  power  your  enemies  will  be  silently  under- 
mining it;  that  three  months  will  suffice,  at  the  last,  to 
overthrow  you  ;  and  that  the  noise  of  your  downfall  will 
echo  from  east  to  west.    Am  I  to  continue  ?  " 

"  Continue,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  These  two  stars  which  you  see  at  the  extremity  of  the 
middle  finger,  that  is  to  say,  the  finger  of  Saturn,  indicate, 
positively,  that  you  will  be  crowned  in  the  same  metropolis 


42  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

where  the  kings  of  France,  your  predecessors,  have  been 
crowned.  But  the  sign  of  Saturn  placed  just  below  those 
two  stars  governs  them,  so  to  speak,  and  it  is  a  most 
fatal  omen  for  you. 

"  Ou  the  second  joint  of  the  middle  finger  there  are  two 
strange  signs,  —  strange  because  they  seem  to  contradict 
each  other.  The  triangle  denotes  a  suspicious,  prying 
man,  not  lavish  with  his  means,  except  to  soldiers  ;  a  man 
who  in  the  course  of  his  life  will  receive  three  wounds  : 
the  first  in  the  thigh,  the  second  in  the  heel,  the  third  in 
the  little  finger.  The  second  of  these  contradictory  signs  is 
a  star  which  denotes  a  magnanimous  sovereign,  a  lover  of 
the  beautiful,  forming  gigantic  projects  which  are  not  only 
unachievable,  but  also  inconceivable  to  the  minds  of 
others. 

"This  line  which,  as  you  see,  is  like  an  elongated  S 
meandering  at  the  base  of  the  second  joint,  foretells,  amid 
divers  perils,  many  attempts  at  assassination,  among  then 
a  premeditated  explosion. 

"  The  right  line,  the  letters  C  and  X,  which  come  down 
almost  to  the  root  of  the  finger  of  Saturn,  promise  a  second 
marriage  more  illustrious  than  the  first. 

"But,"  said  the  young  man,  interrupting  the  seeress 
impatiently,  "  this  is  the  second  or  third  time  you  have 
mentioned  an  alliance  which  will  protect  the  first  eight 
lustres  of  my  life.  How  am  I  to  know  that  woman  when 
I  meet  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  dark-haired  woman,  the  widow  of  a  faiir-haired 
man,  who  wore  a  sword  and  perished  by  a  knife.  She  has 
two  children,  whom  you  will  adopt  as  your  own.  Examin- 
ing her  countenance  you  will  notice  two  things  :  she  has  a 
marked  sign  on  one  of  her  eyebrows  ;  and  when  she  speaks 
familiarly,  she  raises  her  right  wrist,  having  a  habit  of 
carrying  a  handkerchief  to  her  mouth  when  she  smiles." 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  client.  "  Keturn  to  my 
horoscope." 

"  See  at  the  base  of  the  finger  of  Saturn  these  two  signs  : 


ALL    HAIL,    MACBETH  I  43 

one  like  a  gridiron  without  a  handle,  the  other  like  a  six 
of  diamonds.  Tliey  predict  that  your  happiness  will  be 
destroyed  by  your  second  wife,  who,  unlike  the  first,  is  fair 
and  the  daughter  of  kings. 

"  The  figure  which  represents  the  image  of  the  sun  at 
the  extremity  of  the  third  joint  of  the  third  finger,  that  is 
to  say,  the  finger  of  Apollo,  proves  that  you  will  become 
an  extraordinary  personage,  rising  on  your  own  merits,  but 
favored  especially  by  Jupiter  and  by  Mars. 

"  These  four  straight  lines,  placed  like  palisades  below 
that  image  of  the  sun,  say  that  you  will  struggle  in  vain 
against  a  power  which  alone  will  arrest  your  course. 

"  Below  those  four  lines,  we  find  this  curving  line  in  the 
form  of  the  letter  S,  which  has  already  on  the  finger  of 
Saturn  foretold  disaster.  If  the  star  which  is  below  that 
line  were  above  it,  that  position  would  indicate  that  you 
would  continue  at  the  zenith  of  your  fame  for  seven 
lustres. 

"  The  fourth  finger  of  the  left  hand  bears  the  sign  of 
Mercury  at  the  extremity  of  the  third  joint.  That  sign 
means  that  few  men  will  possess  your  knowledge,  your' 
sagacity,  your  shrewdness,  your  powers  of  reasoning,  your 
subtlety  of  mind.  Consequently,  you  will  subject  the 
nations  to  your  designs  ;  you  will  undertake  glorious  expedi- 
tions ;  you  will  ford  great  rivers,  climb  high  mountains, 
cross  vast  deserts.  But  this  sign  of  Mercury  denotes  also 
that  your  temper  will  be  harsh  and  fantastic  ;  that  this 
temper  will  make  you  many  powerful  enemies  ;  that,  rest- 
less and  cosmopolitan,  tortured  with  the  fever  of  conquests, 
you  will  think  yourself  happy  only  where  you  are  not,  and 
sometimes  you  will  even  feel  that  Europe  itself  is  too  small 
for  you. 

"  As  for  this  sort  of  ladder,  traced  between  the  first  and 
third  phalanges  of  the  finger  of  Mercury,  that  signifies  that 
in  the  days  of  your  power,  you  will  accomplish  mighty 
work  for  the  embellishment  of  your  capital  and  the  other 
cities  of  your  kingdom. 


44  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  And  now.  let  us  pass  to  the  thumb,  the  finger  of  Venus. 
See,  here  is  her  all-powerful  sign  on.  the  second  joint.  It 
reveals  that  you  will  adopt  children  who  are  not  your  own  ; 
that  your  first  marriage  will  be  barren,  though  you  have 
had,  and  will  again  have  natural  children.  But,  as  a  com- 
pensation, see  these  three  stars.  They  foretell  that,  in 
spite  of  all  the  efforts  of  your  enemies,  and  surrounded  by 
great  men  who  second  your  genius,  you  will  be  crowned 
between  your  sixth  and  seventh  lustre,  and  that,  in  order 
to  make  you  favorable  to  the  Roman  Church,  the  pope  him- 
self will  come  from  Rome  to  place  upon  your  head  and  on 
that  of  your  wife  the  crown  of  Louis  XIV.  and  of  Saint- 
Louis. 

"  Below  those  three  stars,  see  the  sign  of  Venus  and  that 
of  Jupiter.  Beside  them,  and  on  the  same  line,  notice  this 
fortunate  combination  of  numbers  :  9,  19,  99.  They  show 
that  the  East  and  the  West  will  clasp  hands,  and  that  the 
Caesars  of  Hapsburg  will  consent  to  ally  their  name  to 
yours. 

"Below  those  numbers  we  find  the  same  sun  we  have 
already  seen  on  the  finger  of  Apollo,  which  indicates  that, 
contrary  to  the  action  of  the  celestial  luminary  which  goes 
from  east  to  west,  your  sun  will  go  from  west  to  east. 

"  Now  let  us  go  above  that  first  joint  of  the  thumb,  and 
pause  at  that  0  which  crosses  a  line  transversely.  Well, 
that  line  means  bewildered  sight,  political  blindness.  As 
for  the  three  stars  of  the  first  joint,  and  the  sign  which 
surmounts  them,  they  only  confirm  the  influence  that 
women  will  have  upon  your  life,  and  they  indicate  that  as 
success  came  to  you  through  a  woman,  so  it  will  leave  you 
through  a  woman. 

"  The  four  signs  scattered  on  the  palm  of  your  hand  in 
the  shape  of  a  rake,  ~  one,  through  the  field  of  Mars, 
another  adhering  to  the  line  of  life,  and  the  two  others 
resting  against  the  base  of  the  mountain  ot  the  Moon,  — 
they  indicate  prodigality  of  the  blood  of  soldiers,  especially 
on  the  battlefield. 


ALL    HAIL,    MACBETH  !  45 

"  The  head  of  this  forked  line,  dividing  towards  the 
mount  of  Jupiter,  number  8,  denotes  great  journeys  in 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa.  Some  of  these  journeys  will  be 
forced  upon  you  ;  this  is  denoted  by  the  X,  which  is  above 
the  line  of  life,  and  dominates  the  mount  of  Venus.  There, 
the  crossing  of  it  being  under  Mars,  it  becomes  the  certain 
sign  of  great  glory  from  feats  of  arms.  Men,  in  addressing 
you,  will  exhaust  all  formulas  of  humility  and  praise.  You 
will  be  called  a  glorious  man,  a  mighty  man,  a  miraculous 
being.  You  will  be  Alexander  ;  you  will  be  Ca3sar  :  you 
will  be  more  than  that,  —  you  will  be  Atlas  bearing  the 
world  on  your  shoulders.  After  seeing  the  universe  illumi- 
nated with  your  glory,  you  will  see,  on  the  day  of  your 
death,  the  world  returning  into  darkness,  and  all  men,  feel- 
ing that  something  is  lost  in  the  equilibrium  of  the  globe, 
will  ask  themselves,  not  if  a  man  is  dead,  but  if  the  sun 
has  been  extinguished. 

The  young  man  had  listened  to  this  prediction  with  a 
look  more  gloomy  than  elated.  He  seemed  to  follow  the 
seeress  to  all  the  heights  on  which,  as  if  wearied,  she  had 
paused  to  take  breath.  Then,  still  following  her,  he  had 
seemed  to  descend  into  the  abysses  where  she  had  predicted 
that  his  fortunes  would  end.  After  she  ceased  to  speak,  he 
was  silent  for  a  moment  ;  then  he  said  :  — 

"It  is  Csesar's  fate  that  you  predict  for  me." 

"  More  than  Csesar's  fate,  "  she  replied  ;  "  for  Caesar  did 
not  attain  his  ends,  and  you,  you  will  attain  yours.  Caesar 
only  placed  his  foot  on  the  steps  of  a  throne,  you  will  sit 
upon  the  throne  itself.  Only,  do  not  forget  the  dark- 
haired  woman,  who  has  a  sign  above  the  right  eyebrow, 
and  puts  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips  when  she  smiles." 

"  Where  shall  I  meet  that  woman  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  have  already  met  her,"  replied  the  sibyl  ;  "and  she 
has  marked  with  her  foot  the  spot  at  which  the  long  series 
of  your  victories  will  begin." 

It  was  so  impossible  that  the  seeress  could  have  prepared 
beforehand  this  assemblage  of  irrefutable  truths,  already 


46  THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

passed,  and  this  array  of  inconceivable  facts  still  hidden  in 
the  future,  that  the  young  officer,  for  the  first  time  perhaps, 
gave  implicit  belief  to  what  the  seeress  had  told  him. 
Putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  he  took  out  a  purse  con- 
taining gold  ;  but  the  sibyl  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  If  I  have  prophesied  lies  to  you,"  she  said,  "  what  you 
offer  me  is  too  much.  If  I  have  told  you  the  truth,  we  can 
only  settle  our  account  at  the  Tuileries,  when  you  are 
Emperor  of  the  French." 

"  So  be  it  !  at  the  Tuileries,"  replied  the  young  man. 
"  And  if  you  have  told  me  the  truth  you  will  lose  nothing 
by  the  delay.* 

1  I  can  guarantee  the  truth  of  this  scene,  for  these  details  were  given 
nie  by  the  friend  and  pupil  of  Mademoiselle  Leuonnaud,  Madame  Moreau, 
who  still  lives  (1867)  at  No.  5  Rue  du  Tournou,  in  the  same  rooms  as  the 
famous  seeress,  where  she  devotes  herself  to  the  same  art  with  immense 
success. 


THE   MAN   OF   THE   FUTURE.  47 


XXXII. 

THE    MAN    OF    THE    FUTURE. 

On  the  26tli  of  October,  at  half-past  two  in  the  afternoon, 
the  president  of  the  Convention  pronounced  these  words  : 
"  The  National  Convention  declares  that  its  mission  is  accom- 
plished and  its  sessions  ended."  These  words  were  followed 
by  loud  and  repeated  cries  of,  "Vive  la  République  !  " 

To-day,  after  the  lapse  of  seventy-two  years,  he  who 
writes  these  lines  cannot  refrain  from  bowing  before  that 
solemn  date. 

The  long  and  stormy  career  of  the  Convention  ended  in 
an  act  of  mercy.  It  decreed  that  the  penalty  of  death 
should  be  abolished  throughout  France.  It  changed  the 
name  of  the  place  de  la  Révolution  to  that  of  the  place  de 
la  Concorde.  It  declared  an  amnesty  for  all  acts  relative 
to  the  Revolution.  It  did  not  leave  behind  it  in  the 
prisons  a  single  political  prisoner.  It  was  strong  and 
very  sure  of  itself,  —  this  Convention  which  thus  resigned 
its  power  ! 

Ah,  terrible  Convention,  stern  burier  of  men,  thou  who 
wrapped  the  eighteenth  century  in  a  bloody  shroud  !  arrayed 
against  thee  at  thy  birth,  September  21,  1792,  were  allied 
Europe,  a  dethroned  king,  a  broken  constitution,  a  wrecked 
administration,  a  discredited  paper-money,  and  regiments 
without  soldiers. 

Thou  gatheredst  thyself  together  for  an  instant  and  saw 
that  thy  mission  was  not  that  of  the  two  Assemblies  that 
preceded  thee  ;  it  was  not  to  proclaim  liberty  in  the  face  of 
a  decrepit  monarchy,  but  to  defend  that  liberty  against 
the  thrones  of  Europe. 


48  THE   FIKST    KEPUBLIC. 

On  that  great  day  of  thy  birth  thou  proclairaedst  the 
Republic  in  the  face  of  two  hostile  armies,  one  of  which 
was  only  fifty,  the  other  only  sixty-five  leagues  from  Paris. 
Then,  to  shut  off  all  retreat  behind  thee,  thou  didst  bring 
to  its  conclusion  the  trial  of  the  king.  A  few  voices  spoke 
in  thy  bosom,  saying,  "  Humanity  !  "  Thou  answeredst, 
"  Vigor  !  " 

Dictator  thou  wast.  From  the  Alps  to  the  Channel,  from 
the  Ocean  to  the  Mediterranean,  thou  possessedst  thyself  of 
all,  declaring,  "  I  am  answerable  for  all." 

Like  that  minister  of  Louis  XIII.  for  whom  there 
were  neither  friends  nor  family,  only  enemies  of  France, 
who  struck  down  Chalais  and  Marillac,  Montmorency  and 
Saint-Preuil  alike,  —  like  him,  thou  decimatedst  thyself. 
Until,  after  three  years  of  such  convulsions  as  no  peoples 
had  ever  known  before,  after  those  days  which  go  by  the 
names  of  January  21st,  October  31st,  April  5th,  9tli  Ther- 
midor, 13th  Vendémiaire,  thou,  bleeding  and  mutilated, 
didst  lay  down  thy  life,  handing  the  dying  France  thou 
hadst  received,  saved  and  restored,  to  the  Directory. 

Let  those  who  accuse  thee  say  what  would  have  happened 
hadst  thou  faltered  in  thy  course  ;  had  Conde  reached 
Paris  ;  had  Louis  XVIII.  reascended  his  throne  ;  and  if, 
instead  of  the  Directory,  the  Consulate,  the  Empire,  and 
all  their  deeds,  we  had  had  twenty  years  of  Restoration, 
twenty  years  of  Spain  instead  of  France,  twenty  years 
of  shame  in  place  of  twenty  years  of  glory  ! 

Was  the  Directory  worthy  of  the  legacy  its  bloody 
mother  left  it  ?  That  is  not  the  question.  The  Directory 
will  answer  for  its  deeds  before  posterity  as  the  Conven- 
tion has  answered  for  its  own. 

This  Directory  was  now  appointed.  The  five  members 
were  :  Barras,  Rewbell,  La  Revellière-Lepeaux,  Letourneur 
and  Carnot.  It  was  decreed  that  their  residence  should  be 
the  Luxembourg.  The  five  Directors  did  not  know  the 
condition  of  that  palace.  They  went  there  to  open  their 
sessions.     Not  an  article  of  furniture  was  in  the  place. 


THE    MAN    OF    THE    FUTURE.  49. 

The  concierge,  Monsieur  Thiers  says,  lent  them  a  rickety 
table,  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  a  pen  and  ink  with  which  to 
write  their  first  message  announcing  to  the  Council  of  the 
Five  Hundred  and  the  Council  of  the  Ancients  that  the 
Directory  was  constituted. 

They  sent  to  the  Treasury.  There  was  not  a  penny  of 
coin  in  its  coffers. 

Barras  took  the  ministry  of  state  ;  Carnot  that  of  war  ; 
Rewbell,  foreign  affairs  ;  Letourneur  and  La  Revellière- 
Lepeaux,  the  interior.  Buonaparte  was  made  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Army  of  Paris.  Two  weeks  later  he  signed 
his  name  Bonaparte. 

On  the  9th  of  the  following  March,  about  eleven  in  the 
forenoon,  two  carriages  stopped  before  the  door  of  the 
mayor's  office  of  the  second  arrondissement.  A  young  man 
of  twenty-six,  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  general  officer,  got 
out  of  the  first  carriage,  followed  by  two  witnesses.  Out 
of  the  second  came  a  young  lady  about  twenty-eight  or 
thirty  years  of  age  ;  she,  too,  was  followed  by  her 
witnesses. 

All  six  personages  entered  the  office  of  Charles-Théodore 
François,  civic  officer  of  the  second  arrondissement,  who 
put  to  them  the  usual  questions  addressed  to  those  intend- 
ing marriage,  to  which  they,  on  their  side,  replied  in  the 
usual  terras.  Then  the  civic  officer  read  to  the  parties  the 
following  deed,  which  they  duly  signed  :  — 

19th  Day  of  Ventôse,  Year  IV.  of  the  Republic. 

Marriage  contract  of  Napolione  Bonaparte,  general-in-chief  of 
the  Army  of  the  Interior,  aged  twenty-eight  years,  born  in  Ajaccio, 
department  of  Corsica,  domiciled  in  Paris,  rue  d'Antin,  son  of 
Charles  Bonaparte,  property  owner,  and  Laetitia  Ramolini  his  wife  ; 

And  of  ]Marie-.Iosèphe-Rose  de  Tascher,  aged  twenty-eight  years, 
born  on  the  island  of  JNIartinique  of  the  Windward  Islands,  domiciled 
in  Paris,  rue  Chantereine,  daughter  of  Joseph-Gaspard  de  Tascher, 
captain  of  dragoons,  and  Rose-Claire  Desvergers  de  Sanois,  his  wife. 

VOL.    II.  —  4 


50  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

I,  Charles  Théodore  François,  civic  officer  of  the  second  arron- 
dissement of  the  canton  of  Paris,  after  reading  in  presence  of  the 
parties  and  their  witnesses,  — 

(1)  The  certificate  of  birth  of  the  said  Napolione  Bonaparte, 
whicli  declares  that  he  was  born  February  5th,  1768,  of  the  legal 
marriage  of  Charles  Bonaparte  and  Laetitia  Ramolini  : 

(2)  The  certificate  of  birth  of  Marie- Josephe-Rose  de  Tascher, 
which  declares  that  she  was  born  June  23d,  1767,  of  the  legal 
marriage  of  Joseph-Gaspard  de  Tascher  and  Rose-Claire  Desvergers 
de  Sanois  ; 

And,  after  seeing  the  certificate  of  the  death  of  Alexandre-Fran- 
cois-Marie Beauharnais,  which  declares  that  he  died  5th  Thermidor 
year  II.,  married  to  Marie-Josèphe-Rose  de  Tascher; 

Also,  after  seeing  the  certificate  of  the  banns  of  said  marriage 
having  been  duly  published  for  the  time  prescribed  by  law,  without 
opposition  ; 

And  also,  after  Napolione  Bonaparte  and  Marie-Josèphe-Rose  de 
Tascher  have  declared  aloud  that  they  mutually  take  each  as  hus- 
band and  wife,  —  I  have  pronounced  aloud  that  Napolione  Bonaparte 
and  I\Iarie-Josèphe-Rose  de  Tascher  are  united  in  marriage. 

And  this  in  presence  of  the  witnesses  herein  named,  to  wit  :  Paul 
Barras,  member  of  the  Executive  Directory,  domiciled  in  the  palace 
of  the  Luxembourg;  Jean  Lemarrois,  aide-de-camp,  captain,  domi- 
ciled rue  des  Capucines  ;  Jean-Lambert  Tallien,  member  of  the 
Legislative  body,  domiciled  at  Chaillot;  and  Etienne-Jacques- Jerome 
Calmelets,  lawyer,  domiciled  rue  de  la  place  Vendôme,  No.  207, 
who  have  all  signed  with  the  parties,  and  with  me,  after  said 
reading. 

Signed  to  this  document  we  may  read  the  six  signatures 
of  M.-J.-E.  Tascher,  Napolione  Bonaparte,  Tallien,  P. 
Barras,  J.  Lemarrois  junior,  E.  Calmelets  and  C.-T. 
François. 

The  remarkable  thing  about  that  deed  is  this  :  it  contains 
two  false  statements.  Bonaparte  makes  himself  in  his 
said  certificate  of  birth,  two  years  and  a  half  older  than  he 
was  ;  and  Joséphine  in  her  certificate  four  years  younger. 
Joséphine  was  born,  June  23d,  1763,  and  Bonaparte 
August  15th,  1769. 

The  day  after  his   marriage  Bonaparte  was   appointed 


THE   MAN   OF   THE   FUTURE.  51 

<}ommander-in-chief  of   the   Army    of    Italy.      That    was 
Barras's  wedding  gift. 

On  the  26th  of  March  Bonaparte  reached  Nice,  with  two 
thousand  louis  in  the  pocket  of  his  carriage  and  a  million 
of  francs  in  cheques. 

The  government  had  given  a  magnificent  army  to 
Jourdan  and  Moreau,  an  army  of  seventy  thousand  men. 
They  were  afraid  to  trust  Bonaparte  with  more  than 
thirty  thousand  famished  soldiers,  reduced  to  the  last 
extremity  of  misery,  lacking  everything,  —  without  clothes, 
without  shoes,  without  pay,  and  much  of  the  time  without 
food  ;  but,  let  us  say  it  here,  bearing  their  privations,  even 
hunger,  with  admirable  fortitude. 

His  officers  were  :  Massena,  of  Nice,  obstinate,  opiniona- 
tive,  given  to  spasmodic  flashes  of  power  ;  Augereau,  whom 
we  knew  at  Strasbourg  ;  La  Harpe,  an  expatriated  Swiss  ; 
Serrurier,  a  man  of  the  old  war  times,  that  is  to  say, 
methodical  and  brave  ;  and  finally,  Berthier,  his  chief  of 
staff,  whose  great  qualities  he  divined,  —  qualities  which 
only  deepened  as  time  went  on. 

With  his  thirty  thousand  famished  soldiers  he  had  to 
conquer  sixty  thousand  men  ;  twenty  thousand  of  them 
Piedmontese  under  the  orders  of  General  Collé,  and  forty 
thousand  Austrians,  under  the  orders  of  General  Beaulieu. 
These  generals  saw  with  contempt  the  arrival  of  this  young 
man,  younger  than  they,  who  was  supposed  to  owe  his  rank 
to  Barras's  favoritism,  —  a  small  man,  thin,  proud,  with  an 
Arab  skin,  a  fixed  eye,  and  Roman  features. 

As  for  his  own  soldiers  they  quivered  at  the  first  words 
he  said  to  them,  for  those  words  were  in  a  language  that 
they  needed. 

"  Soldiers,"  he  said,  "  you  are  ill-fed  and  half  naked. 
The  government  owes  you  much,  but  it  can  do  nothing. 
Your  patience  and  yoiir  courage  honor  you;  but  if  you 
stay  here  you  can  get  neither  food  nor  fame.  I  have  come 
to  lead  you  to  the  most  fertile  plains  of  all  the  world  j 


52  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

there  you  will  find  great  cities,  splendid  provinces  !  There 
honor,  glory,  riches  await  you.     Follow  me  !  " 

The  same  day  he  distributed  four  gold  louis  to  each 
general,  who  had  not  seen  gold  for  four  or  five  years,  and 
he  pushed  his  headquarters  to  Albenga. 

He  was  in  haste  to  reach  Voltri,  the  spot  upon  his  map 
where  Josephine's  foot,  on  that  first  day  when  she  went  to 
see  him,  had  left  its  mark. 

On  the  11th  of  April  he  was  at  Arenzano.  Should  he 
meet  the  enemy  ?  Would  that  pledge  of  his  future  fame  be 
granted  to  him  ?  As  he  mounted  the  slopes  of  Arenzano, 
at  the  head  of  La  Harpe's  division,  which  formed  the 
advance  guard  of  his  little  army,  he  gave  a  cry  of  joy. 
Issuing  from  Voltri  came  a  column  of  men,  —  it  was 
Beaulieu  and  the  Austrians  ! 

During  five  days  the  battle  rages  ;  at  the  end  of  those 
five  days  Bonaparte  is  master  of  the  valley  of  the  Bormida; 
the  Austrians,  beaten  at  Montenotte  and  Dego,  are  flying 
towards  Acqui  ;  and  the  Piedraontese,  after  losing  the 
gorges  of  Millesimo,  are  retiring  on  Ceva  and  Mondovi. 

Master  of  all  the  roads,  dragging  in  his  train  nine  thou- 
sand prisoners,  he  shows  his  soldiers  from  the  heights  of 
Monte-Remoto,  which  he  has  to  cross  in  order  to  reach 
Ceva,  the  beautiful  plains  of  Italy  which  he  promised 
them  ;  he  shows  them  rivers  which  are  flowing  to  the 
Adriatic  and  the  Mediterranean  ;  he  points  to  the  great 
snow-mountains  beside  them,  and  cries  out  :  — 

"  Hannibal  crossed  the  Alps,  but  we  have  turned  them." 

Then  it  was  that  the  comparison  of  himself  with  Han- 
nibal came  to  him. 

Later  the  comparison  was  with  Csesar. 

Later  again,  with  Charlemagne, 

We  have  now  seen  the  birth  of  his  fortunes.  Let  us 
here  leave  the  conqueror  on  his  first  stage  round  the  world. 
He  is  on  his  way  to  Milan,  Cairo,  Vienna,  Berlin,  Madrid, 
and  alas  !  —  to  Moscow. 


A   GLANCE    AT   THE    PROVINCES.  63 


THE    EIGHTEENTH    FRUCTIDOR. 


A    GLANCE   AT    THE    PROVINCES 

On  the  night  of  the  28th  and  29th  of  May,  —  that  is  to  say, 
when  Bonaparte,  his  glorious  campaign  in  Italy  over, 
reigned  supreme  with  Joséphine  at  Montebello,  surrounded 
by  the  envoys  of  foreign  powers  ;  when  the  Horses  of 
Corinth  descending  from  the  Duomo  and  the  Lion  of  San 
Marco  falling  from  his  column  had  departed  to  Paris  ; 
when  Pichegru,  detached  from  the  army  under  vague  sus- 
picions, was  just  named  president  of  the  Council  of  the 
Five  Hundred,  and  Barbe-Marbois  was  presiding  over  the 
Ancients,  —  a  horseman  who  was  travelling,  as  Virgil  says, 
"in  the  friendly  silence  of  the  moon,"  per  arnica  silentia 
lunœ,  and  who  was  following  at  the  trot  of  a  vigorous  horse 
the  main  road  from  Macon  to  Bourg,  left  that  road  a  little 
beyond  the  village  of  Pollias,  jumped,  or  rather  made  his 
horse  jump  the  ditch  that  divided  the  road  from  the  cul- 
tivated fields,  and  followed  for  nearly  six  hundred  yards 
the  banks  of  the  river  Veyle,  where  he  was  not  likely  to 
encounter  either  village  or  traveller. 

There,  no  longer  fearing,  perhaps,  to  be  recognized  or 
noticed,  he  allowed  his  cloak  to  slip  from  his  shoulders  to 
the  crupper  of  his  horse,  and  this  movement  on  his  part 
disclosed  in  his  belt  a  pair  of  pistols  and  a  hunting-knife. 
Then  he  raised  his  hat  and  wiped  his  brow,  which  was  run- 
ning with  perspiration.  It  was  now  apparent  that  this  was 
a  young  man  about  twenty-eight  or  twenty-nine  years  old, 


54  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

handsome,  elegant,  haughty  in  demeanor,  and  quite  prepared 
to  meet  force  by  force  if  any  one  were  imprudent  enough 
to  attack  him. 

We  may  here  explain  that  the  precaution  which  had 
made  him  slip  the  pistols  into  his  belt,  and  another  pair 
into  his  holsters,  was  by  no  means  unnecessary.  The 
Thermidorian  reaction,  crushed  in  Paris  on  the  13th  Ven- 
démiaire, had  taken  refuge  in  the  provinces,  and  there 
assumed  proportions  that  were  almost  gigantic.  Lyon  had 
become  its  stronghold.  On  one  side,  through  Nîmes,  it 
stretched  to  Marseille  ;  on  the  other,  through  Bourg  in 
Bresse,  to  Besançon. 

To  explain  the  point  now  reached  in  the  provinces  by 
this  reaction,  we  should  be  glad  to  refer  the  reader  to  our 
novel  entitled,  "  The  Company  of  Jehu,"  or  to  the  "  Souve- 
nirs of  the  Revolution  and  the  Empire,"  by  Charles 
Nodier.  But  as  the  reader  has  probably  neither  of  those 
books  at  hand,  the  shortest  way  seems  to  be  to  reproduce 
some  of  the  facts  related  in  them  here. 

There  is  no  cause  for  surprise  in  the  fact  that  the 
Thermidorian  reaction,  crushed  in  Paris,  the  first  capital  in 
Prance,  should  have  found  a  home  in  the  second  capital, 
Lyon,  with  ramifications  to  Marseille  and  Besançon.  We 
know  what  Lyon  had  suffered  after  her  revolt.  The  guillo- 
tine had  been  too  slow.  Collot  d'Herbois  and  Fouché 
blasted  the  city  with  grape-shot.  There  were  very  few 
families  in  the  upper  commercial  ranks  or  the  nobility 
which  did  not  lose  some,  at  least,  of  their  members.  Well, 
at  last  the  day  had  come  when  father,  brother,  son,  could 
be  avenged  ;  and  they  were  avenged,  openly,  publicly, 
under  the  light  of  heaven.  "  It  was  you  who  caused  my 
son,  my  brother,  my  father  to  die  !  "  the  killer  said  to  the 
denouncer,  before  he  struck  the  blow. 

"  The  theory  of  murder,"  says  Charles  Nodier  in  the 
book  we  have  mentioned,  "  had  permeated  the  upper  classes. 
There  were  secrets  of  death  in  the  salons  which  would  have 
horrified  the  galleys.     Men  left  their  cards  for  a  game  of 


A    GLANCE    AT    THE    PROVINCES.  55 

extermination,  and  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  lower 
their  voices  when  they  talked  of  killing  some  one.  Women, 
gentle  mediators  to  the  passions  of  men,  took  an  active 
part  m  these  horrible  discussions.  Execrable  Megseras  no 
longer  wore  guillotines  for  earrings,  but  "  adorable  furies  " 
as  Corneille  said,  wore  daggers  for  hairpins.  If  any  one 
ventured  to  object,  on  the, ground  of  sentiment,  to  these 
frightful  excesses,  they  were  taken  to  the  Brotteaux  and 
made  to  walk  upon  those  heaving  quicksands,  and  then  were 
told  :  "  There,  beneath  your  feet,  are  our  relations."    .  .  . 

"  But  how  is  it  possible  to  explain  this  impossible  period, 
when  dungeons  no  longer  protected  prisoners  ;  when  the 
executioner  coming  for  his  victim  found  him  murdered  ; 
when  orgies  of  death  were  renewed  daily  by  elegant  young 
men,  who  spent  their  evenings  in  a  ballroom  or  were 
welcomed  in  a  boudoir  ? 

"  It  was,  and  we  must  say  it,  —  it  was  a  local  monomania, 
a  fury  bred  beneath  the  wings  of  revolutionary  harpies,  a 
craving  for  prey  sharpened  by  confiscations,  a  lust  of  blood 
enflamed  by  the  sight  of  blood.  In  short,  it  was  the  frenzy 
of  generations  fed,  like  Achilles,  on  the  marrow  of  wild 
beasts  ;  with  no  more  ideality,  no  more  sense  of  human 
obligation  than  the  brigands  of  Schiller  or  the  barons  of 
the  middle-ages.  It  was  the  violent,  irresistible  desire  of 
renewing  society  by  the  same  crime  as  that  which  destroyed 
it.  It  was,  and  this  comes  always  in  crucial  times,  the 
result  of  the  law  of  eternal  compensation,  —  the  Titans  after 
chaos,  pythons  after  the  deluge,  the  cloud  of  vultures  after 
carnage  ;  the  infallible  lex  talionis  which  avenges  death  by 
death  and  pays  itself  with  usury,  —  the  law  which  Holy 
Scripture  claims  as  the  perquisite  of  Providence. 

"  The  composition  of  these  bands  of  avengers,  whose 
object  was  at  first  not  clearly  understood,  had  something  of 
the  inevitable  mixture  of  ranks,  conditions,  and  persons 
which  we  see  in  all  parties,  all  collections  of  men  who 
band  together  and  fall  upon  a  disorganized  society  ;  but 
there  was  less  of  this  here  than  there  might  have  been 


56  THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

elsewhere.  Such  of  the  lower  classes  as  took  part  in  this 
reaction  were  not  without  a  varnish  of  manners  acquired 
through  spendthrift  vices,  —  an  aristocratic  populace,  we 
may  call  thero,  which  went  from  debauch  to  debauch,  from 
excess  to  excess,  imitating  the  aristocracy  of  rank  and 
fortune,  as  if  to  prove  that  nothing  is  so  easy  to  surpass 
as  a  bad  example.  .  .  . 

"The  proscribed  class  at  first  threw  themselves  into  the 
prisons  for  safety.  When  that  failed  them,  the  adminis- 
tration endeavored  to  protect  the  victims  by  exiling  them. 
To  withdraw  certain  persons  from  special  vengeance  it 
sometimes  sent  them,  with  their  wives  and  children,  to  a 
distance  of  sixty  or  eighty  miles  from  their  homes,  among 
a  population  to  whom  their  names  and  former  deeds  were 
unknown.  This  was  only  a  means  of  changing  their 
burial-place.  The  confederates  of  death  exchanged  their 
victims  from  one  department  to  another  with  commercial 
regularity. 

"  The  condition  of  these  provinces  produced  sights  the 
mere  recollection  of  which  revolts  the  soul.  Imagine  one 
of  those  long  carts  with  railed  sides  in  which  calves  are 
taken  to  the  slaughter-house,  now  filled  with  human  victims 
pressed  confusedly  together,  with  feet  and  hands  bound 
tightly  with  ropes,  their  heads  hanging  and  jostled  about 
by  the  jolts  of  the  vehicle,  their  chests  heaving  with 
fatigue,  despair,  and  terror,  —  men  whose  only  crime  was 
often  mere  maddened  excitement  expressed  in  threatening 
words." 

Nodier  saw  and  named  to  me  an  old  man  of  seventy,  well- 
known  for  his  gentleness  and  courtesy  of  manner,  qualities 
which  are  reckoned  above  all  others  in  provincial  salons  ; 
one  of  those  well-bred  country  gentlemen  of  the  old  school, 
the  type  of  which  is  now  beginning  to  disappear,  who  were 
sometimes  seen  in  Paris  at  the  card-table  of  the  king  or 
paying  court  to  ministers  ;  Nodier  saw  that  man,  we  say, 
while  women  looked  on  carrying  their  children,  who  clapped 
their  hands  ;    Nodier  saw  him,  —  I  will  give  in  his  own 


A   GLANCE    AT   THE    PROVINCES.  57 

words  what  he  saw  :  "  I  saw  him  tire  out  his  feeble  old 
arm  by  striking  with  his  gold-headed  cane  a  body  in  which 
the  wholesale  murderers  had  neglected  to  extinguish  the 
spark  of  life,  and  which  lay  there  writhing  in  a  last 
convulsion." 

And  now  that  we  have  attempted  to  explain  the  condi- 
tion of  the  country  through  which  the  traveller  was  riding, 
the  reader  will  not  be  surprised  at  the  precautions  he  took, 
and  the  attention  he  paid  to  every  point  of  a  dangerous 
region  which  seemed,  moreover,  to  be  entirely  unknown  to 
him.  In  fact,  he  had  scarcely  gone  a  mile  along  the  banks 
of  the  Veyle  before  he  stopped  his  horse,  rose  in  his 
stirrups,  leaned  forward,  and  tried  to  see  through  the 
darkness,  now  increased  by  the  obscuring  of  the  moon. 
He  was  beginning  to  despair  of  finding  his  way  without 
being  forced  to  take  a  guide  either  at  Montech  or  Saint- 
Denis,  when  a  voice,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  river, 
made  him  start  from  its  mere  unexpectedness.  The  voice 
said  in  a  very  cordial  tone  :  — 

"  Do  you  want  any  help,  citizen  ?  " 

"  Faith,  yes,  I  do,"  replied  the  traveller  ;  "  and  as  I  can't 
go  to  find  you,  not  knowing  where  you  are,  you  would  be 
most  kind  to  come  to  me,  since  you  know  where  I  am." 

So  saying,  he  drew  his  cloak  once  more  over  the  butts  of 
his  pistols  and  over  the  hand  that  grasped  one  of  them. 


58  THE    FIKST    liEPUBLIG, 


II. 

THE    TRAVELLER. 

The  traveller  was  not  mistaken  ;  the  voice  did  come  from 
the  river.  A  shadow  now  sprang  lightly  on  the  bank, 
came  to  the  horse's  head  and  laid  one  hand  on  its  neck. 
The  rider,  seeming  rather  disturbed  by  this  familiarity, 
reined  back  the  animal. 

"  Oh  !  excuse  me,  citizen,"  said  the  new-comer  ;  "  I  did 
not  know  it  was  forbidden  to  touch  a  horse." 

"  It  is  not  forbidden,  my  friend,"  said  the  rider  ;  "  but 
you  know  that  in  these  times  at  night  it  is  best  to  talk  at 
a  distance." 

"  Confound  it  !  I  don't  trouble  myself  about  such  pre- 
cautions. You  seemed  to  me  to  have  lost  your  way,  and 
being  a  good  fellow  myself,  I  said  :  *  There 's  a  poor 
Christian  who  wants  help.  I  '11  show  him  his  way.'  Then 
you  called  to  me  to  come,  and  I  came.  If  you  don't  want 
me,  good-bye  !  " 

"  Forgive  me,  friend,"  said  the  traveller,  "  my  distrust 
was  quite  involuntary  ;  I  do  need  your  help  and  you  can 
do  me  a  great  service." 

"  What  is  it  ?     Speak  up  ;  I  am  not  angry." 

"  Do  you  belong  in  this  neighborhood  ?  " 

"  I  come  from  Saint-Remy,  close  by.  You  can  see  the 
steeple  from  here." 

"  Then  you  know  the  country  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so  !  I  am  a  fisherman  by  trade.  There 
is  not  a  stream  in  a  circuit  of  thirty  miles  that  I  have  n't 
fished  and  netted." 

"  Then,  of  course,  you  know  the  convent  of  Seillon  ?  " 


THE    TRAVELLER.  59 

"  Know  the  convent  of  Seillon  ?  of  course  I  do  !     But  I 
can't  say  as  much  of  the  monks." 
"  Why  not  ?  " 

"Because  there  are  none;  they  were  driven  away  in 
1791  —  that 's  why." 

"  Then  to  whom  does  the  convent  belong  ?  " 

"  Nobody." 

"■  What  !  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  a  farm,  a  convent, 
a  forest  of  ten  thousand  acres,  and  three  thousand  acres  of 
open  land  belong  to  nobody  ?  " 

"  They  belong  to  the  Republic,  and  that 's  the  same 
thing." 

"Then  the  Republic  does  not  cultivate  the  land  it 
confiscates  ?  " 

"  Goodness  !  do  you  suppose  it  has  time  ?  It  has  a  great 
deal  else  to  do,  the  Republic  has." 

"  What  else  ?  " 

"  Well,  make  itself  a  new  skin,  for  one  thing." 

"True,  it  is  just  electing  a  new  third;  do  you  take  an 
interest  in  that  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  sometimes,  when  I  've  nothing  else  to  do.  Our 
neighbors  of  the  Jura  are  going  to  send  General  Pichegru." 

"  Are  they  ?  " 

"  He  '11  make  'em  stare.  But  I  'm  gossiping,  and  mak- 
ing you  lose  your  time,  —  though,  to  be  sure,  if  you  are 
going  to  Seillon  you  need  n't  be  in  any  hurry." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  there  's  nobody  at  Seillon." 

"  No  one  ?  " 

"  Except  the  ghosts  of  the  old  monks,  and  they  don't 
get  there  till  midnight  ;  so,  as  I  say,  you  need  n't  be  in  any 
hurry." 

"  Are  you  sure,  my  friend,  that  there  is  no  one  at 
Seillon  ?  "  asked  the  traveller,  dwelling  on  the  words 
"no  one." 

"  I  went  past  there  yesterday,  carrying  some  fish  to 
Madame  de  Montrevel  at  the  Château  des  Noires-Fontaines, 


60  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

and  I  didn't  see  a  cat."  He  waited  a  moment  and  then 
added  :  "  They  were  all  priests  of  Baal,  so  there  was  no 
harm  done." 

The  traveller  started  even  more  visibly  than  before. 

^^ Priests  of  Baal  .^"  he  said,  looking  liard  at  the  fisherman. 

"Yes,  and  unless  you  come  from  a  king  of  Israel  —  I 
forget  his  name  —  " 

"  Jehu,  —  is  that  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure  ;  I  know  he  was  anointed  by  the  prophet 
—  prophet  —  what  was  the  name  of  the  prophet  who 
anointed  king  Jehu  ?  " 

"  Elisha,"  said  the  traveller  without  hesitation. 

"  That 's  it  ;  but  he  made  some  condition  about  anoint- 
ing him,  what  was  it  ?  —  help  me." 

"  That  of  punishing  the  crimes  of  the  house  of  Ahab  and 
Jezebel." 

"  Ha  !  sacrebleu  !  all  right  !  " 

And  he  held  out  his  hand  to  the  traveller.  As  the  two 
shook  hands  they  made  a  last  sign  to  each  other  which 
left  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  either  that  they  belonged  to 
the  same  association  ;  and  yet  they  said  not  a  word  as  to 
their  own  personality  nor  about  the  business  they  were 
engaged  in,  one,  in  going  to  Seillon,  the  other  in  fishing 
on  the  river.     The  latter  did,  however,  remark  :  — 

''  I  am  very  sorry  to  be  detained  here  by  special  orders  ; 
otherwise  I  should  have  been  delighted  to  serve  you  as  a 
guide.  As  it  is,  I  cannot  return  to  the  Chartreuse  without 
a  given  signal  of  recall.  But  I  think  you  can't  miss  your 
way  now.  You  see  those  two  dark  masses,  one  larger  than 
the  other  ?  The  largest  is  the  town  of  Bourg,  the  smallest 
the  village  of  Saint-Denis.  Pass  between  the  two  at  an 
equal  distance  from  both,  and  continue  your  way  till  you 
come  to  the  bed  of  the  Reyssouse.  Cross  it,  the  stream 
is  n't  higher  than  your  horse's  knees  ;  you  will  then  see  a 
broad  black  curtain  before  you  ;  that  is  the  forest." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  traveller  ;  "  once  at  the  edge  of 
the  forest  and  I  know  what  to  do." 


THE   TKAVELLER.  61 

"  Even  if  they  don't  answer  your  signal  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Very  well  ;  then  good-bye,  and  good  luck  to  you." 

The  young  men  shook  hands,  and  the  fisherman  slipped 
back  to  the  river  as  rapidly  as  he  had  come  from  it.  The 
traveller  stretched  his  neck  to  see  what  had  become  of 
him;  but  the  fisherman  was  invisible.  Then  giving  his 
horse  the  rein  he  put  him  into  a  sharp  trot,  crossed  a  field 
without  difficulty,  the  moon  having  reappeared,  and  was 
soon  on  the  high-road  between  Bourg  and  Saint-Denis.  As 
he  reached  it  the  hour  sounded  from  the  belfries  of  the 
two  places.     The  traveller  counted  eleven  strokes. 

After  following  the  road  from  Lyon  to  Bourg  the 
traveller  found  himself,  as  the  fisherman  had  said,  on  the 
bank  of  a  little  river.  Fording  it,  he  saw  nothing  before 
him  but  a  strip  of  plain  bordered  by  the  dark  line  which 
he  had  been  told  was  the  forest.     He  rode  straight  for  it. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  he  was  on  a  parish  road  which 
skirted  the  whole  length  of  the  forest.  There,  he  stopped 
a  moment  and  looked  about  him.  He  did  not  hesitate 
about  making  the  signal,  but  he  wished  to  be  certain  that 
he  was  quite  alone.  Darkness  often  has  such  depths  of 
silence  that  the  boldest  man  is  subdued  by  it  if  he  is  not 
forced  to  act.  For  an  instant,  as  we  have  said,  the  traveller 
looked  and  listened  ;  but  he  saw  nothing  and  he  heard 
nothing.  Then  he  put  the  handle  of  his  whip  to  his  mouth 
and  whistled  three  times  ;  the  first  and  third  sounds  were 
firm  and  sharp  ;  the  middle  sound  quavering  like  that  of  a 
boatswain's  whistle.  The  noise  echoed  in  the  depths  of 
the  forest,  but  no  analogous  or  differing  sound  answered  it. 

Then  he  seemed  to  decide  on  his  course,  and  followed 
the  parish  road  until  it  entered  another  road,  which  he 
took  without  hesitation.  At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  he 
found  this  second  road  crossed  by  another  ;  he  followed 
that  other  to  the  left,  and  in  five  minutes  he  was  clear  of 
the  forest. 

Before  him  rose  a  dark  mass  which  he  felt  was  the  con- 


62  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

vent  he  was  in  search  of.  As  he  approached,  certain  details 
developed  themselves  which  proved  to  him  it  was  indeed 
the  old  Chartreuse  he  had  before  his  eyes. 

Presently  he  stopped  his  horse  before  the  great  portal, 
surmounted  and  supported  by  three  statues  ;  that  of  the 
Virgin,  that  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  of  Saint 
John  the  Baptist.  Tlit;  statue  of  the  Virgin,  placed  directly 
above  the  door  formed  the  highest  point  of  a  triangle. 
The  two  others  came  down  as  low  as  the  transverse  beam 
which  made  the  branch  of  the  stone  cross,  in  the  lower 
part  of  which  the  massive  oaken  door  was  encased,  which 
door,  as  well  as  the  shutters  on  the  first  story,  seemed  to 
have  withstood  the  ravages  of  time. 

"  This  is  it,"  said  the  rider.  "  Now  which  of  those 
statues  is  that  of  Saint  John  ?  " 


THE   CHARTREUSE   OF   SEILLON.  63 


III. 

THE    CHARTREUSE    OF    SEILLON. 

The  traveller  soon  saw  that  the  statue  he  was  in  search  of 
was  placed  in  the  niche  to  the  right  of  the  great  portal. 
He  forced  his  horse  up  to  the  wall,  and  rising  in  his  stir- 
rups, touched  the  pedestal  of  the  statue.  He  found  a  little 
space  between  its  base  and  the  wall  of  the  niche  ;  in  it  he 
slipped  his  hand,  found  a  ring,  pulled  it  to  him,  and  felt, 
rather  than  heard,  the  jarring  of  a  bell.  He  did  this  three 
times.  The  third  time  he  listened  attentively.  Presently 
he  fancied  he  heard  a  cautious  step  approach  the  door, 

"  Who  rang  ?  "  asked  a  voice. 

"  One  from  the  prophet  ?  "  replied  the  traveller. 

"  Which  prophet  ?  " 

*'  Him  who  has  left  his  mantle  to  his  disciple." 

"  His  name  ?  " 

"  Elisha." 

"  What  king  do  the  children  of  Israel  obey  ?  " 

"Jehu." 

"  What  house  must  they  exterminate  ?  " 

"  That  of  Ahab." 

"  Are  you  prophet  or  disciple  ?  " 

"  Disciple,  but  I  have  come  to  be  made  a  prophet." 

"  Then  you  are  welcome  to  the  house  of  the  Lord." 

"  The  words  were  hardly  said  before  the  iron  bars  that 
held  the  gate  were  swung  without  a  sound  ;  the  bolts  were 
drawn  without  creaking,  and  the  door  opened  silently  and 
as  if  by  magic. 

Horse  and  rider  disappeared  through  the  archway,  and  the 
door  closed  behind  them.     The  man  who  had  just  opened  it 


64  THE    FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

SO  slowly  and  closed  it  so  sv.'iftly  approached  the  new-comer, 
who  was  now  dismounting.  The  latter  looked  curiously  at 
him.  He  was  dressed  in  the  long  white  robe  of  a  Chartreux 
monk,  and  his  head  was  entirely  covered  with  its  hood. 
He  took  the  horse  by  the  bridle,  but  evidently  more  to  do  a 
kindness  than  a  service.  He  allowed  the  traveller  to  take 
off  his  valise  himself,  also  the  pistols  from  his  holsters, 
which  he  put  in  his  belt  near  those  already  there. 

Then  the  traveller  cast  a  look  about  him,  and  seeing  no 
light  and  hearing  no  noise,  he  said  :  — 

"  Are  the  Companions  absent  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  an  expedition,"  replied  the  monk. 

"  Do  you  expect  them  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  hope  for  them  to-night,  but  I  scarcely  expect  them 
before  to-morrow  night." 

The  traveller  reflected  a  moment.  This  absence  appeared 
to  annoy  him. 

"  I  cannot  put  up  in  the  town,"  he  said.  "  I  might  be 
remarked,  if  not  recognized.  ''  Can  I  await  the  Companions 
here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  your  word  of  honor  not  to  attempt  to  leave 
the  convent." 

"  You  have  it." 

During  this  time  the  robe  of  a  second  monk  defined  itself 
in  the  shadow,  and  grew  whiter  as  it  approached  the  two 
men.  This  was  apparently  a  serving  brother,  for  the  first 
monk  passed  him  the  bridle  of  the  horse  with  an  order, 
rather  than  a  request,  to  put  the  animal  in  the  stable. 

"You  can  easily  understand,"  he  said  to  the  traveller, 
"  why  we  have  no  lights.  This  Chartreuse  is  supposed  to 
be  inhabited  only  by  ghosts  ;  a  light  would  betray  us. 
Take  my  hand  and  come  with  me." 

The  traveller  pulled  off  his  glove  and  took  the  hand  of 
the  monk.  It  was  soft,  and  evidently  unaccustomed  to  any 
work  that  could  destroy  its  congenital  aristocracy.  Under 
the  circumstances  in  which  the  traveller  found  himself, 
everything  becomes  an  indication.     He  saw  plainly  that  he 


THE   CHARTREUSE   OF   SEILLON.  65 

had  to  do  with  a  well-bred  man,  and  he  followed  him  con- 
fidently. After  making  several  turns  through  passages 
that  were  dark  as  the  darkest  night,  they  entered  a  rotunda, 
which  was  lighted  from  above.  It  was  evidently  the  dining- 
room  of  the  fraternity,  and  was  lighted  by  a  few  wax  candles 
fastened  to  the  wall  in  candelabra.  A  fire  was  burning, 
made  of  dry  wood,  which  gave  out  little  or  no  smoke. 

The  monk  offered  a  seat  to  the  traveller,  saying  :  — 

''  If  our  brother  is  weary,  let  him  sit  down  ;  if  hungry, 
he  shall  have  supper  ;  if  sleepy,  his  bed  shall  be  made 
ready  at  once." 

"  I  accept  all,"  said  the  traveller,  stretching  his  vigorous 
and  handsome  limbs.  "  I  am  weary,  hungry,  and  sleepy. 
But,  with  your  permission,  my  dear  brother,  I  will  take 
each  in  turn." 

He  threw  his  broad-brimmed  hat  on  a  table,  pushed  back 
his  floating  hair  and  disclosed  a  broad  forehead,  beautiful 
eyes,  and  a  face  that  breathed  serenity.  The  monk  who 
had  taken  his  horse  to  the  stable,  now  returned,  and  spread- 
ing a  cloth,  placed  upon  it  a  cold  chicken,  a  pâté,  a  bottle 
of  wine,  with  plates,  knives  and  forks,  and  glasses. 

The  traveller  twirled  his  chair  to  the  table,  and  bravely 
attacked  the  chicken,  taking  first  the  leg,  then  the  wing 
upon  his  plate.  After  the  chicken  came  the  pâté,  of  which 
he  ate  a  good  slice,  washing  it  down  by  short  draughts  from 
his  glass,  —  "breaking  his  wine,"  as  the  gourmets  say. 
During  this  time  the  monk  stood  silent  and  motionless  at 
a  little  distance  from  him.  He  showed  no  curiosity  ;  the 
traveller  was  hungry,  and  not  a  word  escaped  either  of 
them. 

When  his  meal  was  over  the  traveller  took  out  his  watch. 

"  Two  o'clock,"  he  said  ;  "  still  two  hours  to  daylight." 
Then,  addressing  the  monk,  he  added  :  "  If  the  Companions 
do  not  return  to-night,  you  say  you  do  "not  expect  them  till 
to-morrow  night  ?  " 

"Probably  not;  they  seldom  travel  by  day." 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  stranger,  "I  will  sit  up  an  hour 

VOL.  II.  —  5 


66  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

If  at  three  o'clock  our  brethren  are  not  here,  you  shall 
take  me  to  my  bedroom.  Meantime,  don't  concern  your- 
self about  me.  You  belong  to  a  silent  order,  and  for  me, 
I  am  no  chatterer  except  to  women.  You  have  none  here, 
of  course  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  monk. 

"  Well,  then,  attend  to  your  own  affairs  if  you  have  any, 
and  leave  me  to  my  thoughts." 

The  Chartreux  bowed  and  went  away,  taking  the  precau- 
tion before  he  went  of  placing  another  bottle  of  wine  on  the 
table.  The  guest  thanked  him  with  a  bow,  and  mechani- 
cally continued  to  drink  the  wine  in  little  sips,  and  to  eat 
the  crust  of  the  pâté  in  small  mouthfuls. 

'^  If  this  is  the  ordinary  fare  of  the  brethren,  I  don't  pity 
them,"  he  muttered.  "  Pomard  every  day,  chickens  (it  is 
true  this  is  the  region  of  chickens),  and  a  snipe  pâté. 
However,  the  dessert  is  lacking," 

As  he  thought  the  words,  the  monk  who  had  taken  charge 
of  his  horse  came  in,  bearing  on  a  plate  a  slice  of  the  fine 
Sassenage  cheese  speckled  with  green,  the  invention  of 
which  is  due,  they  say,  to  the  fair}^  Melusina.  Without 
professing  to  be  an  epicure,  the  young  man  seemed,  as  we 
have  seen,  quite  sensible  of  the  excellence  of  his  supper. 
He  did  not  say  with  Brillat-Savarin  that  "  a  meal  without 
cheese  is  like  a  woman  without  an  eye,"  but  no  doubt  he 
thought  it.  It  took  him  an  hour  to  empty  his  bottle  of 
Pomard  and  pick  up  his  bits  of  cheese  with  the  point  of  his 
knife.  The  little  monk  had  left  him.  He  drew  out  his 
watch.     It  was  three  o'clock. 

He  looked  about  for  a  bell  and  found  none,  and  was  on  the 
point  of  striking  the  glass  with  his  knife  when  it  occurred 
to  him  that  that  might  be  taking  too  great  a  liberty  with  the 
worthy  monks  who  had  received  him  so  hospitably.  Con- 
sequently, wishing  to  do  as  he  said,  and  go  to  bed  at  three 
o'clock,  he  laid  his  pistols  on  the  table,  taking  only  his 
hunting-knife  with  him.  and  went  into  the  passage  through 
which  he  had  come.     Half  way  down  he  met  the  monk. 


THE   CHARTREUSE    OF   SEILLON.  6? 

"Brother,"  said  the  latter,  "two  signals  have  just  an. 
nounced  that  the  Companions  are  returning.  In  tive  min- 
utes they  will  be  here  ;  I  was  just  going  to  tell  you." 

"  Well,"  said  the  traveller,  "  let  us  go  and  meet  them." 

The  monk  made  no  objection;  he  returned  upon  his  steps 
and  re-entered  the  courtyard,  followed  by  the  stranger. 
The  second  monk  opened  the  great  gate  as  he  had  done  for 
the  traveller,  and  the  gallop  of  several  horses  was  distinctly 
heard  approaching  rapidly. 

"  Stand  aside,"  said  the  monk,  pushing  the  traveller 
rather  hastily  to  the  wall. 

At  that  moment  a  whirlwind  of  men  and  horses  rushed 
into  the  courtyard  with  the  noise  of  thunder.  The  traveller 
thought  for  a  moment  that  the  Companions  were  pursued, 
but  he  was  mistaken. 


êâ  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


IV. 

THE   TRAITOR. 

The  door  closed  behind  them.  It  was  not  yet  daylight, 
though  the  night  was  less  dark.  The  traveller  saw  with  some 
surprise  that  the  party  had  brought  with  them  a  prisoner. 
This  prisoner,  whose  hands  were  tied  behind  his  back,  was 
bound  to  a  horse,  which  was  led  by  two  of  the  companions. 
The  three  horsemen  had  entered  abreast  through  the  porte- 
cochere,  and  the  rush  of  their  gallop  carried  them  across 
the  courtyard.  Two  by  two,  the  others  had  followed. 
Then  all  dismounted.  For  a  moment  the  prisoner  remained 
on  his  horse,  then  they  took  him  olî. 

"  Let  me  speak  to  Captain  Morgan,"  said  the  traveller 
to  the  monk  who  had  hitherto  attended  on  him.  "  He  must 
know  at  once  that  I  have  come." 

The  monk  went  up  to  the  leader  of  the  company  and  said 
a  few  words  in  his  ear.  The  latter  instantly  approached 
the  traveller. 

"  From  whom  do  you  come  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Am  I  to  answer  in  the  usual  formula  ?  "  asked  the 
traveller,  "  or  reply  simply  to  the  question  ?  " 

"  As  you  are  here,  you  must  already  have  satisfied  the 
requirements.     Tell  me  at  once  from  whom  you  come." 

"  General  Round-head." 

"  You  have  a  letter  from  him  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is." 

The  traveller  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  but  Morgan 
stopped  him, 

"  Later,"  he  said  ;  "  we  have  now  to  judge  and  punish  a 
traitor.     Take  the  prisoner  to  the  council-room,"  he  added. 


THE    TKAITOR.  69 

The  gallop  of  a  second  troop  of  horsemen  was  heard. 
Morgan  listened. 

''They  are  brothers,"  he  said.  "Open  the  gate;  stand 
aside  !" 

A  second  troop  of  four  men  entered  almost  as  rapidly  as 
the  first. 

"  Have  you  the  prisoner  ?  "  cried  the  leader  of  the 
new-comers. 

"  Yes,"  replied  a  chorus  of  the  Company  of  Jehu. 

"  And  you,"  said  Morgan,  "  have  you  the  documents  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Then  all  is  well,"  said  Morgan;  "justice  will  be  done." 

We  will  now  relate  what  had  happened.  As  we  have 
said,  various  bands  of  young  men  known  by  the  name  of 
"  The  Company  of  Jehu,"  or  by  that  of  "  The  Avengers," 
and  sometimes  under  the  double  name,  scoured  the  country 
from  Marseille  to  Besançon.  One  kept  itself  in  the  envi- 
rons of  Avignon,  another  in  the  Jura,  a  third,  where  we 
have  seen  it,  in-  the  Chartreuse  of  Seillon.  As  all  these 
young  men  belonged  to  the  best  families  in  that  region,  no 
sooner  had  they  struck  their  premeditated  blow  than  they 
separated  and  returned  to  their  homes.  Half  an  hour  later 
the  robber  of  a  diligence  might  be  seen  with  his  hat  on  one 
side,  his  glass  in  his  eye  and  cane  in  hand,  lounging  in  the 
streets,  asking  for  news,  and  discoursing  about  the  insolent 
daring  of  men  to  whom  nothing  was  sacred,  not  even  the 
money  of  the  Directory.  How  was  it  possible  to  suspect 
young  men  who  were  rich  or  of  noble  birth,  many  of  them 
related  to  the  authorities,  of  being  highwaymen  ?  We 
must,  however,  admit  that  although  they  were  not  suspected, 
if  they  had  been,  no  one  would  have  taken  upon  himself  to 
denounce  them. 

The  government  was  exasperated  at  finding  its  money 
seized  on  the  high-road  and  sent  to  Brittany  instead  of  to 
Paris,  to  the  profit  of  the  Chouans  and  not  of  the  Directory. 
They  were  unable  to  cope  with  the  difficulty  by  law  ;  they 
therefore  had  recourse  to  intrigue. 


70  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

In  one  of  the  diligences  which  carried  the  government 
money,  seven  or  eight  gendarmes  dressed  in  citizens'  clothes 
took  their  places  as  passengers,  having  sent  their  carbines 
and  pistols  to  be  stowed  away  in  the  vehicle  in  advance. 
The  affair  was  managed  with  such  ability  that  the  Company 
of  Jehu  heard  nothing  of  it.  The  diligence,  which  started 
with  the  commonplace  air  of  all  such  coaches,  was  stopped  by 
eight  men  in  the  ravines  of  Cavaillon.  A  volley  from  the  inte- 
rior revealed  the  trick  to  the  assailants,  who,  not  intending  to 
be  drawn  into  a  battle,  galloped  away,  and  would  soon  have 
disappeared,  if  a  shot  had  not  struck  one  of  their  horses  in 
the  thigh,  so  that  he  fell  and  pinned  down  his  rider.  The 
rider,  unable  to  release  himself,  was  captured  by  the 
gendarmes. 

Like  the  Illuminati  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  the 
freemasons  of  modern  times,  the  Companions  of  these  self- 
constituted  brotherhoods  went  through  severe  tests  and 
took  solemn  oaths  before  being  admitted  into  the  Company. 
One  of  these  oaths  was  never  to  denounce  a  companion^ 
whatever  tortures  might  be  applied  to  compel  it.  If  the 
name  of  an  accomplice  was  revealed  by  any  of  the  brother- 
hood, the  Company  had  the  right  to  plunge  a  dagger  into 
his  heart. 

The  prisoner  taken  on  the  occasion  we  speak  of,  on  the 
high-road  between  Marseille  and  Avignon,  was  named 
Fargas,  though  the  name  he  went  by  in  the  brotherhood 
was  Hector.  He  resisted  for  a  long  time  both  promises 
and  threats,  but  finally  yielded  under  that  worst  of  all  tor- 
tures, the  deprivation  of  sleep,  and  revealed  the  names  of 
his  accomplices.  But  no  sooner  was  the  revelation  made 
public  than  the  judges  received  such  a  deluge  of  letters 
and  threats  that  it  was  resolved  to  prosecute  the  case  in  a 
distant  town,  that  of  Nantua  at  the  further  extremity  of 
the  department  of  the  Ain. 

By  the  time  that  the  prisoner  was  removed  to  Nantua,  all 
precautions  having  been  taken  for  his  safety,  the  Company 
of  Jehu  at  the  Chartreuse  of  Seillon  had  received  informa- 


THE    TRAITOR.  71 

tion  of  the  betrayal,  and  of  the  removal  into  their 
neighborhood  of  the  traitor.  The  letter  giving  the  inform- 
ation, ended  thus  :  — 

"  It  is  for  you  who  are  known  to  be  the  most  devoted  brethren  of 
our  order,  and  especially  for  Morgan,  the  most  daring  leader  among 
us,  to  save  his  companions  by  obtaining  and  destroying  the  confes- 
sion and  the  indictment  in  the  case,  and  by  making  a  terrible 
example  of  the  traitor." 

This  was  the  mission  that  Morgan  had  just  accomplished. 
He  had  gone  with  ten  of  his  companions  to  Nantua.  Six 
of  them  gagged  the  sentinel,  and  forced  the  keeper  of  the 
prison  to  open  the  doors,  and  show  them  the  cell  where 
Fargas  was  confined.  They  then  took  the  latter  from  the 
prison,  bound  him  to  a  led  horse  they  had  brought  with 
him,  and  galloped  away. 

The  four  others,  during  this  time,  had  seized  the  clerk  of 
the  court,  and  compelled  him  to  give  them  the  whole  pro- 
ceedings, with  the  affidavits  and  interrogatories  answered 
and  signed  by  the  prisoner.  With  these  in  their  possession, 
they  departed  as  they  came.  It  is  useless  to  mention  that 
all  were  masked. 

This  is  why  the  second  troop,  on  reaching  the  courtyard 
of  the  convent,  had  cried  out  :  "  Have  you  the  prisoner  ?  " 
and  why  the  others  had  demanded  :  "  Have  you  the  docu- 
ments ?  "  also  why  Morgan  had  added,  in  a  voice  that  no 
one  gainsaid,  *'  Then  all  is  well,  and  justice  will  be  done." 


72  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


V. 

THE   SENTENCE. 

The  prisoner  was  a  young  man  about  twenty-three  years  of 
age,  looking  more  like  a  woman  than  a  man,  so  fair  and 
slender  was  he.  He  was  bareheaded  and  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
with  nothing  else  but  his  boots  and  trousers.  The  Com- 
panions had  seized  him  in  his  cell,  just  as  he  was,  and 
carried  him  off  without  a  moment's  delay. 

His  first  idea  was  that  he  was  rescued.  These  men, 
were  doubtless  members  of  the  Company  of  Jehu,  that  is 
to  say,  men  belonging  to  companies  and  opinions  like  his 
own.  But  when  they  bound  him,  and  he  saw  through  their 
masks  the  anger  in  their  eyes,  he  knew  that  he  had  fallen 
into  hands  that  were  even  more  terrible  than  those  of 
the  law,  —  the  hands  of  those  he  had  denounced,  and  from 
whom  he  had  nothing  to  expect  but  the  punishment  of  his 
treachery.  During  the  whole  way  he  had  asked  no  ques- 
tion, and  no  one  had  addressed  him.  The  first  words  he 
heard  were  those  said  by  his  judges  in  the  courtyard.  He 
was  very  pale,  but  he  gave  no  other  sign  of  emotion  than 
his  pallor. 

At  Morgan's  order  the  pretended  monks  crossed  the 
cloister.  The  prisoner  walked  at  their  head  between  two 
of  the  Companions,  each  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

The  cloister  passed,  they  entered  the  garden.  This  pro- 
cession of  twelve  monks,  marching  silently  through  the 
darkness,  had  something  terrifying  about  it.  They  reached 
the  door  of  the  cistern.  One  of  the  two  who  walked  beside 
the  prisoner  stooped  and  removed  a  loose  stone  ;  under  the 
stone  was  a  ring  ;  by  the  help  of  that  ring  he  raised  a 
paving-stone  which  covered  the  entrance  to  steps. 


THE   SENTENCE.  73 

The  prisoner  hesitated  an  instant,  so  much  did  the  place 
appear  to  hini  like  a  tomb.  The  monk  beside  him  went 
down  first  and  took  two  torches  from  a  fissure  in  the  stones  ; 
these  he  lighted  by  means  of  tinder,  and  then  said  :  — 

"Step  down." 

The  prisoner  obeyed.  The  whole  party  were  now  in  a 
vaulted  passage,  along  which  they  walked  for  about  four 
minutes  ;  then  they  came  to  an  iron  railing  ;  one  of  the 
monks  took  a  key  from  his  pocket  and  opened  it.  It  gave 
entrance  to  a  burial  vault. 

At  the  farther  end  of  this  vault  a  door  opened  into  an  old 
subterranean  chapel,  which  the  Company  of  Jehu  made 
their  council-chamber.  A  table  covered  with  black  cloth 
was  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  twelve  carved  stalls  were  on 
each  side  in  which  the  Chartreux  monks  had  formerly 
seated  themselves  to  chant  the  office  of  the  dead.  On  the 
table  were  an  inkstand,  several  pens,  and  some  sheets  of 
paper.  From  the  wall  stretched  iron  brackets,  apparently 
intended  to  hold  torches,  for  into  them  the  two  leading 
monks  proceeded  to  place  those  they  bore. 

The  twelve  men  took  their  seats  in  the  stalls  ;  the  pris- 
oner was  made  to  sit  on  a  stool  at  one  end  of  the  table  ;  at 
the  other  end  stood  the  traveller,  the  only  person  present 
who  did  not  wear  the  monk's  robe  and  had  his  face 
uncovered. 

Morgan  spoke. 

"  Monsieur  Lucien  de  Fargas,"  he  said,  "  was  it  by  your 
own  will,  and  without  being  constrained  or  forced  by  any 
one  that  you  asked  our  brethren  of  the  South  to  admit  you 
to  our  association,  which  you  entered,  after  the  usual  tests, 
under  the  name  of  Hector  ?  " 

The  young  man  bowed  in  sign  of  acquiescence. 

''  It  was  by  my  own  will,  not  constrained,"  he  said. 

''  You  took  the  customary  oaths  and  you  therefore  knew 
the  penalty  incurred  by  those  who  are  false  to  them." 

"  I  knew  it,"  replied  the  prisoner. 

"You  knew   also  that  any  Companion  revealing,  even 


74  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

under  torture,  the  names  of  his  companions  incurred  the 
penalty  of  death,  and  that  this  penalty  would  be  applied 
without  delay  the  moment  that  the  proof  of  his  crime  was 
shown  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  knew  it." 

"  What  led  you  to  break  your  oath  ?  " 

"  The  impossibility  of  enduring  want  of  sleep.  I  resisted 
five  nights  ;  on  the  sixth  I  asked  for  death  —  that  was  sleep. 
They  would  not  give  it  to  me.  I  tried  every  means  of 
destroying  life  ;  but  the  gaolers  watched  me  too  closely. 
The  seventh  night  1  yielded.  I  promised  revelations  for 
the  next  day  ;  I  hoped  they  would  let  me  sleep  then  ;  but 
they  exacted  that  I  should  make  those  revelations  on  the 
spot.  It  was  then  that,  maddened  with  suffering,  held  up 
by  two  men  who  did  not  allow  me  even  to  sleep  standing,  I 
revealed  the  four  names  of  M.  de  Valensolles,  M.  de  Barjols, 
M.  de  Jayat,  and  M.  de  Kibier." 

One  of  the  monks  drew  from  his  pocket  the  bundle  of 
documents  they  had  taken  from  the  courthouse.  He  looked 
for  the  paper  containing  the  confession  and  placed  it 
before  the  prisoner. 

"  That  is  it,"  said  the  latter. 

"  Do  you  recognize  your  signature  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  signature." 

"  You  have  no  other  excuse  to  give  ?  " 

" None,"  replied  the  prisoner.  "I  knew  when  I  signed 
that  paper  that  I  was  signing  my  death-warrant  ;  but  I 
craved  sleep." 

"  Have  you  any  favor  to  ask  before  dying  ?  " 

"  Yes,  one  ;  I  have  a  sister  whom  I  love  and  who  loves 
me.  We  are  orphans,  brought  up  together  ;  we  have  never 
been  parted.     I  wish  to  write  to  my  sister." 

"  You  may  do  so  ;  only,  you  must  write  at  the  bottom  of 
your  letter  the  postscript  we  shall  dictate." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  young  man.     He  rose  and  bowed. 

"Will  you  unbind  my  hands,"  he  said,  "that  1  may 
write  ?  " 


THE    SENTENCE.  75 

The  request  was  complied  with  by  Morgan,  who  had  been 
the  one  to  address  the  prisoner,  and  who  now  laid  pen,  ink, 
and  paper  before  him.  The  young  man  wrote,  firmly 
enough,  about  a  pageful,  then  he  said  :  — 

"  I  have  finished,  gentlemen.  Will  you  have  the  good- 
ness to  dictate  the  postscript  ?  " 

Morgan  approached. 

*'  Are  you  ready  ?  "  he  said. 

'*  Yes,"  replied  the  young  man. 

"  Then  write,  'I  die  for  having  broken  a  solemn  oath;  con- 
sequently, I  admit  the  justice  of  my  death.  If  you  wish  to 
give  me  burial  you  will  find  my  body  in  the  market-place  of 
Bourg.  The  dagger  in  my  breast  will  show  that  I  do  not 
die  by  a  cowardly  murder,  but  by  a  just  revenge.'  " 

Morgan  drew  from  beneath  his  robe  a  dagger,  made,  hilt 
and  blade,  of  a  single  piece  of  steel  ;  it  was  shaped  like  a 
cross,  in  order  that  a  condemned  man  might  kiss  it  in  his 
last  moments  should  a  crucifix  be  lacking. 

"  If  you  desire  it,  monsieur,"  he  said,  "  we  will  grant  you 
the  favor  of  striking  yourself.  There  is  the  dagger.  Do 
you  think  your  hand  is  sure  ?  " 

The  young  man  reflected  a  moment. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  fear  to  miss  it." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Morgan.     "  Address  your  letter." 

The  young  man  folded  the  letter  and  directed  it  to 
Mademoiselle  Diana  de  Fargas,  Nîmes. 

"  And  now,  monsieur,"  said  Morgan,  "  you  have  ten 
minutes  in  which  to  pray." 

The  former  altar  of  the  chapel  was  still  in  place,  though 
mutilated.  The  condemned  man  walked  up  to  it  and  knelt 
down.  During  this  time  the  monks  tore  a  sheet  of  paper  in 
twelve  pieces,  on  one  of  which  a  dagger  was  drawn.  The 
twelve  pieces  were  then  put  into  the  traveller's  hat  and  each 
monk  drew  his  fragment.  The  one  to  whom  the  office  of 
executioner  had  fallen  said  not  a  word. 

Ten  minutes  elapsed.     The  young  man  rose. 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  said. 


7ê  THE    FIRST    EEPUBLIC. 

Then,  without  an  instant's  hesitation,  silent  and  rigid,  the 
monk  who  had  drawn  the  lot  of  giving  death  walked 
straight  toward  him  and  plunged  the  dagger  into  the  left  side 
of  his  breast.  A  crj^  of  pain  was  heard,  then  the  fall  of  a 
body  on  the  pavement  of  the  chapel,  and  all  was  over.  The 
blade  of  the  dagger  had  gone  through  the  heart. 

"So  perish  all  Companions  of  our  sacred  order  who 
break  their  oaths  !  "  said  Morgan. 

"  So  be  it  !  "  answered  the  monks  who  had  shared  in  the 
execution. 


DIANA   DE   FAKGAS.  77 


VI. 

DIANA    DE    FARGAS. 

About  the  same  hour  at  which  the  unfortunate  Lucien  de 
Favgas  was  drawing  his  last  breatli  in  the  subterranean 
chapel  of  the  Chartreuse  of  Seillon,  a  post-chaise  drew  up 
before  the  inn  of  The  Dauphin  at  Nantua. 

This  inn  had  a  certain  reputation  in  iSTantua  and  the  sur- 
rounding neighborhood,  —  a  reputation  Avhich  it  owed  to 
the  well-known  opinions  of  the  landlord,  Maître  René 
Servet.  Without  knowing  why,  Maître  René  Servet  was 
royalist.  Thanks  to  the  remoteness  of  Nantua  from  all 
the  great  centres  of  population,  thanks  above  all  to  the 
kindly  nature  of  its  inhabitants.  Maître  René  Servet  had 
been  allowed  to  go  through  the  Revolution  without  being 
attacked  for  his  opinions,  publicly  as  he  proclaimed  them. 

And  yet  the  worthy  man  had  done  everything  that  was 
most  calculated  to  bring  persecution  upon  him.  Not  only 
had  he  kept  the  name  of  his  inn,  "The  Dauphin,"  un- 
changed, but  on  the  body  of  the  fantastic  dolphin  issuing 
from  the  sea  which  served  him  as  a  sign,  he  had  painted 
the  profile  of  the  poor  little  prince  who  was  locked  up  for 
four  years  in  the  Temple,  and  had  just  died  there  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Thermidorian  reaction. 

Therefore  all  persons  in  a  circuit  of  sixty  miles  (and 
their  number  was  great)  who  shared  the  opinions  of  René 
Servet  made  a  point  of  putting  up  at  his  inn,  and  would  on 
no  account  have  gone  elsewhere. 

Consequently  it  is  not  surprising  that  a  post-chaise  arriv- 
ing at  Nantua  deposited  its  occupant  at  the  aristocratic 
Dauphin  rather  than  at  its  democratic  rival,  the  Boule 
d'Or. 


78  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC, 

At  the  sound  of  the  wheels,  though  it  was  scarcely  iive 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  Maître  René  Servet  sprang  from 
his  bed,  put  on  his  drawers  and  a  pair  of  white  stockings, 
also  his  list  slippers,  and  wrapping  a  very  large  dimity 
dressing-gown  around  him  went  down  to  the  door  just 
in  time  to  see  a  handsome  young  lady  about  eighteen  or 
twenty  years  of  age  getting  out  of  the  chaise. 

The  lady  was  dressed  in  black,  and,  in  spite  of  her  youth 
and  beauty,  was  travelling  alone.  She  answered  the  obse- 
quious salutation  of  the  host  with  a  short  bow,  and  without 
waiting  for  him  to  offer  information,  she  asked  at  once  if 
he  had  in  his  hotel  a  good  bedroom  and  dressing-room. 

Maître  René  indicated  No.  7  on  the  first  floor  as  the  best 
he  had.  The  young  lady  went  impatiently  to  the  wooden 
frame  on  which  the  keys  were  hung. 

"  Monsieur,"  she  said,  "  will  you  be  good  enough  to 
accompany  me  to  the  room  ?  I  have  a  few  questions 
to  ask  you.  You  can  send  the  chambermaid  when  you 
leave  me." 

René  Servet  bowed  to  the  ground  and  hastened  to  obey. 
He  walked  before,  the  young  lady  after  him.  When  they 
reached  the  room  the  traveller  closed  the  door  behind  her, 
sat  down  on  a  chair,  and  addressed  the  innkeeper,  who  was 
standing  before  her. 

*'  Maître  Servet,"  she  said  firmly,  "  I  know  you  by  name 
and  reputation.  You  have  remained  through  all  the  bloody 
years  we  have  just  passed,  if  not  a  defender,  at  least  a  par- 
tisan, of  the  good  cause.  And  that  is  why  I  have  come  to 
your  inn." 

"  You  honor  me,  madame,"  replied  the  landlord,  bowing. 

She  continued  :  "  I  shall  therefore  omit  all  preamble 
before  a  man  whose  opinions  are  not  doubtful.  I  am 
royalist,  that  is  a  claim  to  your  interest;  you  are  royal- 
ist, that  is  a  title  to  my  confidence.  I  know  no  one  here, 
not  even  the  judge  of  the  court,  for  whom  I  have  a  letter 
from  my  brother-in-law  at  Avignon.  It  is  therefore  natural 
that  I  should  address  myself  to  you." 


DIANA   DE   FARGAS.  79 

"  I  am  only  waiting,  madame,  till  you  do  me  the  honor 
to  say  iu  what  way  I  can  be  useful  to  you." 

"  Have  you  heard,  monsieur,  that  they  have  brought  to 
the  prison  of  Nantua  a  young  man  named  M.  Lucien  de 
Fargas  ?  " 

"Alas  !  yes,  madame  ;  it  seems  that  he  is  to  be  tried  here, 
or  rather  at  Bourg.  He  belongs,  it  is  said,  to  the  associa- 
tion called  the  '  Company  of  Jehu.'  " 

"  You  know  the  object  of  that  association,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  It  is,  I  think,  to  capture  the  money  of  the  government 
and  send  it  to  our  friends  in  La  Vendée  and  Brittany." 

''  Exactly,  monsieur  ;  and  the  government  persists  in 
treating  those  men  as  ordinary  robbers." 

"  I  think,  madame,"  said  René  Servet,  in  a  confident 
voice,  "that  our  judges  here  are  intelligent  enough  to  recog- 
nize the  difference." 

"  Now,  I  will  tell  you  the  object  of  my  journey.  It  was 
thought  that  the  prisoner,  who  is  my  brother,  was  in  some 
danger  in  the  prisons  of  Avignon,  and  that  is  why  they 
sent  him  to  this  remote  part  of  France.  I  would  like  to 
see  him.  To  whom  must  I  addi'ess  myself  to  obtain  that 
favor  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,  madame,  to  the  judge  for  whom  you  have 
a  letter." 

"  What  sort  of  man  is  he  ?  " 

"  Cautious,  but  well  meaning,  I  think.  I  will  have  you 
conducted  to  him  whenever  you  desire  it." 

Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  drew  out  her  watch  ;  it  was 
scarcely  half-past  five  o'clock. 

"  I  must  not  disturb  him  at  such  an  hour,"  she  murmured, 
"  yet  I  cannot  go  to  bed  ;  I  have  no  desire  to  sleep."  Then, 
after  a  moment's  reflection,  she  asked,  "  Monsieur,  in  which 
direction  are  the  prisons  ?  " 

"  If  madame  would  like  to  take  a  walk  around  them  I 
shall  ask  for  the  honor  of  accompanying  her." 

"  Very  good,  monsieur  ;  then  let  me  have  a  cup  of  milk, 
or  tea,  or  coffee,  either  you  please,  and  finish  dressing  your- 


80  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

self.  Before  entering  the  walls  which  confine  my  brother, 
I  should  like  to  look  at  the  outside  of  them." 

The  landlord  made  no  remark.  The  wish  was  a  natural 
one.  He  went  down  and  ordered  a  cup  of  coffee  and  milk 
to  be  carried  to  the  young  lady.  In  about  ten  minutes  she 
herself  came  down  and  found  Maître  Eené  Servet  in  his 
Sunday  suit  waiting  to  guide  her  through  the  streets  of  the 
little  town  founded  by  the  Benedictine  Saint-Amand,  in 
the  church  of  which  Charles  the  Bald  sleeps  with  a  tran- 
quillity he  never  knew  in  life. 

The  town  of  Nantua  is  not  large.  Five  minutes'  walking 
brought  them  to  the  prison,  before  which  they  found  a  great 
crowd  making  a  great  noise.  All  is  presentiment  for  those 
whose  friends  are  in  danger.  It  was  more  than  a  friend 
for  whom  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  was  concerned  ;  it  was  a 
brother,  whom  she  adored.  She  caught  the  arm  of  her  host, 
exclaiming  :  — 

"  Good  God  !  what  is  happening  ?  " 

"We  shall  soon  know,  mademoiselle,"  replied  René 
Servet,  less  moved  than  his  beautiful  companion. 

What  had  really  happened  no  one  yet  knew.  When  the 
guard  came  at  two  o'clock  to  relieve  the  sentry  they  found 
him  gagged  and  bound  hand  and  foot  in  the  sentry-box. 
All  that  he  could  say  was  that  four  armed  men  had 
attacked  him,  and  in  spite  of  his  desperate  resistance  had 
put  him  where  he  was.  He  thought,  but  could  not  be  sure, 
that  the  prison  was  the  object  of  these  men.  The  mayor 
was  then  notified,  together  with  the  commissary  of  police 
and  the  sergeant  of  the  fire  brigade.  These  three  authori- 
ties assembled  in  council  over  this  extraordinary  affair. 
After  half  an  hour  of  deliberation  and  suppositions,  each 
more  improbable  and  absurd  than  the  last,  it  was  resolved 
to  end  where  they  ought  to  have  begun,  namely,  by  exam- 
ining the  prison. 

They  knocked  at  the  gate,  but  no  one  came.  The  noise 
of  their  repeated  knocking  waked  up  the  inmates  of  the 
houses  in  the  neighborhood,  who  all  looked  out  of  their 


DIANA   DE   FAKGAS.  "81 

windows.  Then  further  consultation  was  held,  which  re- 
sulted in  sending  for  a  locksmith.  By  this  time  it  was 
daylight  ;  the  dogs  were  barking.  The  few  passers  stopped 
and  grouped  themselves  inquisitively  round  the  mayor  and 
the  commissary  of  police  ;  and  by  the  time  the  sergeant  of 
the  fire  brigade  had  returned  with  the  locksmith,  —  that  is 
to  say,  at  four  o'clock,  —  already  quite  a  crowd  had  gathered 
about  the  prison.  The  locksmith  called  attention  to  the 
fact  that  if  the  door  were  locked  and  bolted  within,  his 
instruments  were  all  of  no  avail.  But  the  mayor,  a  man 
of  great  good  sense,  said  they  had  better  try  the  doors  in 
the  first  place,  and  they  then  could  decide  what  should  be 
done. 

As  the  Companions  of  Jehu,  on  leaving  the  prison,  had 
not  been  able,  naturally,  to  close  the  door  outside  and  bolt 
it  within,  they  had  contented  themselves  with  simply  pull- 
ing it  to  after  them.  Therefore,  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  the  crowd,  which  was  now  increasing,  when  the  handle 
was  turned  the  door  opened.  Everybody  then  desired  to 
rush  into  the  prison  ;  but  the  mayor  placed  the  sergeant  of 
the  fire  brigade  before  the  door  with  orders  to  let  no  one, 
no  matter  who,  pass  in.  The  law  had  to  be  obeyed.  The 
crowd  increased,  but  the  mayor's  order  was  respected. 

There  are  not  many  cells  in  the  prison  of  Nantua  ;  they 
consist,  in  fact,  of  three  subterranean  chambers,  to  one  of 
which  the  mayor's  attention  was  attracted  by  groans  ; 
after  inquiring  through  the  door  who  was  making  them, 
he  pushed  it  open  and  found  that  the  persons  groaning 
were  no  other  than  the  gaoler  himself  and  his  assistant. 

The  municipal  investigation  had  reached  this  point  when 
Diana  de  Fargas  and  the  proprietor  of  the  hôtel  du  Dauphin 
reached  the  prison. 

VOL.   II.  —  6 


82  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


VII. 


THAT    WHICH     OCCUPIED     FOR     MORE    THAN     THREE     MONTHS 
THE    TONGUES    OF    THE    LITTLE    TOWN    OF    NANTUA. 

To  the  first  question  of  Maître  René  Servet,  "  What  is  hap- 
pening, if  you  please,  Père  Bidoux?"  the  answer  was:  — 

"  Very  extraordinary  things,  Monsieur  Servet,  such  as 
one  never  saw  the  like  of  before.  Early  this  morning  when 
they  came  to  relieve  the  sentinel  they  found  him  in  the 
sentry-box,  gagged  and  tied  up  like  a  sausage  ;  and  just 
now,  it  seems,  they  have  found  old  Rossignol  the  gaoler  shut 
up  in  one  of  his  own  cells.  What  days  we  live  in  !  My  God  ! 
what  days  we  live  in  !  " 

Diana's  intelligent  mind  instantly  took  in  the  truth  ;  it 
was  evident  that  if  the  gaoler  was  in  the  cells  the  prisoner 
must  be  outside  the  walls.  She  left  the  arm  of  her  com- 
panion, darted  to  the  prison,  pressed  through  the  crowd,  and 
reached  the  door.     There  she  heard  some  one  say  :  — 

"  The  prisoner  has  escaped  !  " 

At  the  same  time  Père  Rossignol  and  his  man,  released 
from  their  cell  by  the  locksmith,  appeared  to  the  eyes  of 
the  mayor  and  the  commissary. 

''  You  can't  pass,"  said  the  sergeant  of  the  fire-brigade  to 
Diana. 

"  Those  orders  are  for  other  people,  not  for  me,"  said 
Diana.     "  I  am  the  sister  of  the  escaped  prisoner." 

This  reason  may  not  have  been  convincing  in  a  legal 
sense,  but  it  carried  with  it  that  logic  of  the  heart  which 
men  find  it  hard  to  withstand. 

"  In  that  case  it  is  another  thing,"  said  the  sergeant  of  the 
fire-brigade,  lifting  his  sabre.     "  Pass  in,  mademoiselle." 


WHAT   OCCUPIED   THE   TONGUES   OF   NANTUA.  83 

And  Diana  passed  in,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the 
crowd,  who  now  saw  a  new  element  of  wonder  in  the  drama, 
and  began  to  murmur  to  each  other  :  "  It  is  the  prisoner's 
sister  !  "  Now  all  the  world  in  Nantua  knew  who  the  pris- 
oner was,  and  what  he  was  in  prison  for. 

Père  Kossignol  and  his  assistant  were  at  first  in  such  a 
state  of  prostration  and  terror  that  neither  the  mayor  nor 
the  commissary  could  get  a  Avord  out  of  them.  Happily, 
the  latter  had  the  idea  of  giving  them  each  a  glass  of  wine, 
on  which  Père  Eossignol  found  strength  to  tell  how  six 
masked  men,  having  entered  the  prison  by  force,  had  vio- 
lently compelled  him  and  his  man  Rigobert  to  show  them 
down  to  the  cells,  and  after  taking  out  the  prisoner,  had 
locked  them  both  up  in  his  place.  Beyond  that  they  knew 
nothing. 

It  was  all  that  Diana  wanted  to  know,  for  the  present  at 
least.  She  was  convinced  that  her  brother  had  been  taken 
out  of  prison  by  the  Company  of  Jehu,  for  the  description 
given  by  Père  Rossignol  applied  to  them.  She  therefore 
turned  and  left  the  gaol  as  hastily  as  she  entered  it.  But 
she  then  found  herself  surrounded  by  the  whole  population 
of  the  town,  who,  knowing  by  this  time  that  she  was  the 
prisoner's  sister,  wanted  her  to  give  them  the  particulars 
of  his  escape. 

Diana  told  them  in  a  few  words  all  that  she  knew  herself, 
and  then  made  her  Avay  with  great  difficulty  to  Maître  René 
Servet,  intending  to  give  him  an  order  for  post-horses,  that 
she  might  leave  Nantua  at  once,  when  suddenly  a  rumor 
began  to  spread  that  the  court-house  had  been  entered 
during  the  night.  It  was  almost  certain,  they  said,  that 
the  two  attacks,  that  on  the  court-house  and  that  on  the 
prison,  had  some  connection  with  each  other.  The  young 
girl  thought  so  too.  The  order  for  the  horses  stopped  short 
on  her  lips,  and  she  saw  that  there  might  be  further  details 
which  she  ought  to  know. 

It  was  now  eight  o'clock.  She  could  properly  present 
herself  at  that  hour  before  the  magistrate  to  whom  she  had 


84  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

brought  a  letter.  Besides,  the  strange  events  now  happen- 
ing in  the  little  town  of  Nantua,  and  the  fact  that  she  was 
a  sister  of  the  prisoner  would  excuse  so  early  a  visit.  Diana 
therefore  asked  Maître  René  to  take  her  to  Monsieur 
Pérignon,  —  that  was  the  judge's  name. 

Monsieur  Pérignon  had  been  awakened  among  the  first 
by  the  double  news  which  was  keeping  the  little  town  in 
an  uproar.  He  left  his  house,  and,  naturally,  as  a  lawyer, 
turned  his  steps  to  the  spot  which  interested  him  the  most, 
namely,  the  court-house.  He  had  just  returned  home,  when 
his  servant  announced  :  — 

"  Mademoiselle  Diana  de  Fargas." 

Monsieur  Pérignon  had  already  made  up  his  mind,  from 
the  condition  in  which  he  found  the  court-house  and  the 
papers  in  the  clerk's  office,  and  also  from  the  statement  of 
the  clerk,  that  the  masked  men  had  come  to  Nantua  for  the 
purpose  of  not  only  carrying  off  Lucien  de  Fargas,  but  also 
of  obtaining  the  testimony  and  the  other  papers  in  the  case 
against  him.  The  presence  of  the  sister,  and  the  account 
she  now  gave  him  of  what  had  happened  in  the  prison,  left 
no  doubt  upon  his  mind,  if  indeed  he  had  any.  The  only 
question  was,  by  whom,  and  for  what  purpose  had  the 
prisoner  been  carried  away. 

Diana,  in  the  sincerity  of  her  heart,  did  not  doubt  that 
the  Companions  of  Jehu,  influenced  by  their  generous  feel- 
ings, had  risked  their  heads  to  save  that  of  their  comrade. 
But  Monsieur  Pérignon,  who  was  cool-headed  and  practical, 
did  not  think  so.  He  knew  that  having  betrayed  some  of 
his  accomplices,  Lucien  de  Fargas  was  an  object  of  ven- 
geance to  the  whole  Company  of  Jehu.  His  opinion  was 
that,  far  from  intending  to  release  the  young  man,  they  had 
seized  him  and  carried  him  off  to  a  worse  punishment  than 
that  the  law  would  have  given  him.  The  whole  question 
hinged,  to  his  mind,  on  whether  the  abductors  had  taken 
the  Geneva  road,  or  whether  they  had  followed  that  which 
led  to  the  interior  of  the  department. 

If  they  had  gone  to  Geneva,  that  is  to  say  over  the  fron- 


WHAT   OCCUPIED   THE   TONGUES   OF   NANTUA.  85 

tier,  their  intention  assuredly  was  to  save  Lucien  de  Fargas, 
and  put  themselves  in  safety  at  the  same  time.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  had  gone  to  the  interior,  it  was  because 
they  felt  themselves  strong  enough  for  a  twofold  defiance 
of  the  law,  —  not  only  as  highwaymen,  but  also  as  mur- 
derers. On  this  suspicion,  which  occurred  to  her  for  the 
first  time,  Diana  seized  M.  Perignon's  hand. 

"  Oh,  monsieur  !  monsieur  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  do  you  think 
they  would  dare  to  commit  such  a  crime  ?  " 

"  The  Company  of  Jehu  dares  all,  mademoiselle,"  replied 
the  judge,  ''and  especially  that  which  it  seems  incredible 
they  should  dare  to  dare." 

"  But,"  said  Diana,  trembling  with  fear,  "  how  can  we 
find  out  which  road  they  took  —  whether  to  Geneva  or  the 
interior  ?  " 

'*0h,  that  is  easily  ascertained,"  replied  the  judge. 
"  This  is  market-day  ;  since  midnight  all  the  roads  leading 
into  Nantua  have  been  covered  with  peasants  and  their  carts 
and  donkeys,  bringing  produce  into  the  town.  Ten  men  on 
horseback,  with  a  prisoner,  could  not  pass  unnoticed.  We 
must  inquire  of  the  niarket-nien  coming  from  Saint-Germain 
and  Cherizy,  and  ascertain  if  they  have  seen  riders  going 
toward  Gex.  If  they  have  not,  then  we  must  find  others 
coming  from  Vollongnat  and  Peyriat,  and  ask  if  they  have 
seen  horsemen  on  the  road  to  Bourg." 

Diana  entreated  M.  Perignon  so  urgently  to  help  her, 
fortifying  herself  with  the  letter  of  her  brother-in-law,  and 
also  with  the  plea  that  she  was  the  sister  of  one  whose  life 
was  in  danger,  that  he  finally  consented  to  go  out  with  her 
and  make  these  inquiries. 

It  soon  appeared  that  the  horsemen  had  been  seen  on  the 
road  to  Bourg.  Diana  thanked  M.  Perignon  and  returned 
to  the  hôtel  du  Dauphin,  where  she  asked  for  horses,  and 
started  almost  immediately  for  Bourg.  There  she  stopped 
at  the  hôtel  des  Grottes  de  Ceyzeriat,  place  de  la  Préfec' 
ture,  a  house  recommended  by  Maître  René  Servet. 


86  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


VIII. 

IN  WHICH  A  NEW  COMPANION  IS  RECEIVED  INTO  THE 
COMPANY  OF  JEHU,  UNDER  THE  NAME  OF  ALCI- 
BIADES. 

Day  had  already  broken  when  Lucien  de  Fargas  underwent 
the  penalty  to  which  he  had  knowingly  condemned  himself 
on  entering  the  Company  of  Jehu,  by  taking  a  solemn  oath 
never  to  betray  his  accomplices.  The  removal  of  his  body 
to  Bourg  was,  therefore,  postponed  to  the  following  night. 

Before  leaving  the  vaults  Morgan  turned  to  the  newly 
arrived  traveller  and  said  :  — 

"  You  have  seen  what  has  taken  place,  monsieur,  you 
know  who  we  are,  and  we  have  treated  you  as  a  brother. 
Do  you  wish  that  we  should  prolong  this  session,  fatigued 
as  we  are,  so  that  in  case  you  are  in  a  hurry  to  depart  we 
may  give  you  immediate  release  ?  If  you  do  not  care  to 
leave  us  till  after  to-morrow  night  will  you  allow  us  time 
for  a  few  hours'  rest  ?  I  advise  you  to  take  some  rest  your- 
self ;  for  you  look  as  if  you  had  not  slept  much  more  than 
ourselves.  At  mid-day,  if  you  are  not  obliged  to  leave 
earlier,  the  council  will  convene  to  hear  you.  If  I  am  not 
mistaken  you  and  I  parted  the  first  time  we  met  as  com- 
panions in  arms  only,  but  this  time  we  shall  part  as 
friends." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  stranger,  "  I  was  with  you  in 
heart  long  before  I  set  foot  in  your  domain.  The  oath  I 
propose  to  take  will,  I  trust,  add  nothing  to  the  confidence 
you  do  me  the  honor  to  place  in  me.  At  mid-day,  then,  if 
it  suits  you,  I  will  present  my  credentials." 


A   NEW   COMPANION   IN   THE    COMPANY   OF   JEHU.       87 

Morgan  shook  hands  with  the  speaker.  Then  the  whole 
party  returned  by  the  way  they  came,  closing  the  cistern 
and  hiding  the  ring  under  loose  stones  with  extreme  care. 
They  crossed  the  garden,  passed  through  the  cloister,  and 
re-entered  the  convent,  where  most  of  the  monks  disap- 
peared silently  through  the  various  doors.  The  youngest  of 
them  stayed  behind  with  the  traveller,  whom  he  now  took 
to  a  bedroom,  where  he  bowed  silently  and  left  him. 

The  traveller  noticed  with  satisfaction  that  when  the 
young  monk  closed  the  door  he  did  not  lock  it.  He  went 
to  the  window  ;  it  opened  into  the  room  and  was  not  barred  ; 
it  was  almost  on  a  level  with  the  garden.  Evidently  his 
future  companions  trusted  his  word  and  had  taken  no 
precautions  against  him.  He  closed  the  window-curtains, 
flung  himself  on  the  bed,  clothed  as  he  was,  and  was  soon 
fast  asleep.  At  mid-day  he  was  awakened  by  the  young 
monk  entering  his  room. 

"  It  is  twelve  o'clock,  brother,"  he  said.  "  But  if  you  are 
tired  and  wish  to  sleep  longer,  the  council  will  wait." 

The  traveller  sprang  up,  opened  the  window-curtains, 
took  a  comb  and  brush  from  his  valise,  brushed  his  hair, 
combed  his  moustache,  looked  at  the  state  of  his  clothes, 
and  made  a  sign  to  the  monk  that  he  would  follow  him. 
The  latter  conducted  him  into  the  hall  where  he  had 
supped. 

Four  young  men  were  awaiting  him  ;  they  were  all 
unmasked.  It  was  easy  to  see  by  a  mere  glance  at  their 
clothes  and  the  care  given  to  their  toilet,  together  with  the 
courtesy  of  their  manner  to  the  stranger,  that  they  belonged 
to  the  aristocracy  of  birth  or  fortune. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Morgan,  "  I  have  the  honor  of  pre- 
senting to  you  the  four  chiefs  of  the  Company  of  Jehu  ; 
M.  de  Valensolles,  M.  de  Fayat,  M.  de  Ribier,  and  myself, 
the  Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine.  Gentlemen,  I  present  to 
you  M.  Coster  de  Saint- Victor,  a  messenger  from  General 
Georges  Cadoudal." 

The  five  men  bowed  and  exchanged  civilities. 


88  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Saint-Victor,  "  it  is  not  surprising  that 
M.  Morgan  should  know  me,  and  should  reveal  your  names 
to  me,  for  we  fought  together  on  the  1.3th  Vendémiaire. 
We  were  indeed  companions  in  arms  before  becoming 
friends.  As  M.  le  comte  has  told  you,  I  come  now  from 
General  Cadoudal,  with  whom  I  am  serving  in  Brittany. 
Here  is  a  letter  from  him  which  will  serve  to  accredit  me." 

So  saying,  Saint-Victor  drew  from  his  pocket  a  letter 
bearing  a  seal  with  a  fleur-de-lis,  and  presented  it  to  the 
Comte  de  Sainte-Hermine.  The  latter  opened  it,  and  read 
it  aloud  :  — 

My  dear  Morgan,  —  You  will  remember  that  you  proposed 
at  the  meeting  in  the  rue  de  la  Poste,  to  be  my  banker  in  case  I 
should  be  compelled  to  pursue  the  war  ahme,  without  help  in  France 
or  from  foreign  countries.  All  our  leaders  are  dead  on  the  battlefield 
or  shot.  Stotflet  and  Charette  were  shot  ;  D'Autichamp  submitted  to 
the  Republic;  I  alone  am  left,  unshaken  in  my  loyalty,  unconquer- 
able in  my  Morbihan. 

An  army  of  two  or  three  thousand  men  is  all  I  need  to  hold  the 
field.  But  this  army,  though  it  asks  no  pay,  must  have  provisions, 
arms,  and  ammunition.  Since  Quiberon,  the  English  have  sent  us 
nothing. 

If  you  can  furnish  money,  we  will  furnish  blood.  I  do  not 
mean,  God  forbid  !  that  you  would  spare  your  blood  when  the  time 
came.  No,  your  devotion  is  the  greatest  of  all,  and  puts  ours  to  the 
blush.  If  we  are  captured  we  are  shot  ;  if  you  and  yours  are  taken 
you  will  die  on  the  scaffold.  You  write  me  that  you  have  a  consid- 
erable sum  at  my  disposition.  If  I  may  be  sure  of  receiving 
monthly  from  thirty-five  to  forty  thousand  francs  I  want  no  more. 

I  send  you  our  mutual  friend.  Coster  de  Saint-Victor  ;  his  name 
alone  will  tell  you  that  you  can  place  perfect  confidence  in  him.  I 
have  taught  him  a  little  catechism,  by  means  of  which  I  think  he  can 
reach  you.  Give  him  the  first  forty  thousand  francs,  and  keep 
all  that  you  may  have  over  ;  for  it  is  safer  in  your  hands  than  it 
would  be  in  mine.  If  you  are  so  persecuted  in  your  region  that  you 
cannot  remain  there,  cross  France  and  come  to  me. 
far  or  near,  I  love  and  thank  you. 

Georges  Cadoudal. 
General-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  Brittany 


A    NEW   COMPANION    IN    THE    COMPANY    OF    JEHU.        89 

P,  S.  I  am  told,  my  dear  Morgan,  that  you  have  a  young 
brother  about  nineteen  years  old  ;  if  you  do  not  think  me  an 
unworthy  master,  send  him  to  me  for  his  first  apprenticeship  at 
arms.     1  will  make  him  my  aide-de-camp. 

Morgan  ceased  reading,  and  looked  interrogatively  at 
his  companions.  Each  made  a  sign  with  his  head  in 
affirmation. 

"  Will  you  authorize  me  to  write  an  answer,  gentlemen  ?  " 
asked  Morgan. 

The  question  was  answered  by  a  unanimous  "  Yes  !  " 
Morgan  took  a  pen,  and  while  Saint- Victor  and  M.  de 
ValensoUes,  M.  de  Fayat,  and  M.  de  Ribier  conversed 
together  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window,  he  wrote  his  letter. 
Five  minutes  later  he  called  to  his  companions,  and  read 
them  what  he  had  written  :  — 

My  dear  General,  —  We  ha^  e  received  your  brave,  good 
letter  by  your  brave,  good  messenger.  We  now  have  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  in  hand,  and  can,  therefore,  send 
you  what  you  want.  Our  new  associate,  to  whom  in  virtue  of  my 
personal  authority  I  give  the  name  of  Alcibiades,  will  leave  here 
to-night,  bearing  the  first  forty  thousand  francs. 

Every  month  you  shall  receive  the  same  sum  from  the  same 
banking-house  ;  in  case  of  death  or  dispersion  what  money  we  leave 
will  be  deposited  in  various  places  to  the  amount  of  forty  thousand 
francs  each.     I  subjoin  a  list  of  those  places. 

The  brother  Alcibiades  arrived  here  in  time  to  assist  at  an  execu- 
tion.    He  has  seen  how  we  punish  traitors. 

I  thank  you,  my  dear  general,  for  the  offer  you  graciously  make 
me  about  my  young  brother  ;  but  my  intention  is  to  keep  him  safe 
from  all  dangers  until  he  is  called  upon  to  take  my  place.  My 
eldest  brother  was  shot,  bequeathing  to  me  his  vengeance.  I  shall 
probably  die,  as  you  say,  upon  the  scaffold;  and  I,  too,  shall 
bequeath  my  vengeance  to  my  brother.  In  his  turn,  he  will  take 
the  road  we  have  all  taken,  and  contribute,  as  we  have  all  contrib- 
uted, to  the  triumph  of  the  good  cause  ;  or  he  will  die  as  we  have 
died.  I  need  as  powerful  a  motive  as  that  to  take  upon  myself 
refusal  of  your  patronage,  all  the  while  bespeaking  your  friendship 
for  the  lad. 


90  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Send  us  our  well-beloved  brother  Alcibiades  whenever  you  can  ;  it 
is  a  double  pleasure  to  send  you  such  an  answer  by  such  a 
messenger. 

Morgan. 

The  letter  was  unanimously  approved,  and  consigned  to 
Saint-Victor. 

At  midnight  the  gate  of  the  Chartreuse  opened  to  give 
exit  to  two  horsemen  :  one  the  bearer  of  Morgan's  letter, 
who  took  the  road  to  Macon  to  rejoin  Cadoudal  ;  the  other 
bearing  Lucien  de  Fargas's  body  to  deposit  it  in  the 
market-place  of  Bourg. 

The  body  still  had  the  knife  in  its  breast,  and  to  the 
handle  of  that  knife  was  attached  the  letter  written  by  the 
condemned  man  before  his  death. 


THE   COMTE    DE   FAKUAS.  91 


IX. 


THE    COMTE    DE    FARGAS. 


It  is  necessary  that  our  readers  should  know  who  was  the 
unfortunate  young  man  whose  body  is  thus  deposited  in 
the  market-place  of  Bourg,  and  who  was  the  young  lady 
who,  the  evening  before,  had  put  up  at  the  hôtel  des 
Grottes  de  Ceyzeriat  on  the  Square,  and  where  they  both 
came  from. 

They  were  the  last  scions  of  an  old  family  of  Provence. 
Their  father,  the  former  colonel  of  a  cavalry  regiment, 
and  a  knight  of  Saint-Louis,  was  born  in  the  same  town 
as  Barras,  with  whom  he  was  very  intimate  in  his  youth^ 
the  town  of  Fos-Emphoux.  An  uncle,  who  died  at 
Avignon,  made  him  his  heir  and  left  him  a  house  ;  in 
1787  he  went  to  Avignon  to  live  in  that  house,  with  his 
two  children,  Lucien  and  Diana.  Lucien  at  that  time  was 
twelve  years  old,  and  Diana  eight.  France  was  then  in 
the  first  revolutionary  hopes,  or  fears,  according  to  the 
patriotic  or  royalist  views  of  those  who  felt  them. 

To  all  who  know  Avignon,  there  were  then,  and  still 
are,  two  towns  in  that  city,  the  Roman  town  and  the 
French  town,  —  the  Roman  town,  with  its  magnificent 
papal  palace,  its  hundred  churches,  each  more  sumptuous 
than  the  others,  and  its  innumerable  bells  always  ready  to 
sound  the  tocsin,  that  knell  of  murder  ;  the  French  town, 
with  its  workers  in  silks,  and  its  cross-roads  running  north, 
south,  east  and  west,  from  Lyon  to  Marseille,  and  from 
Nîmes  to  Turin.  The  French  town  was  an  accursed  town, 
a  town  savage  at  being  ruled  by  a  king,  eager  to  obtain 


92  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

its  liberties,  and  quivering  as  it  felt  itself  a  slave,  the 
earth-slave  of  the  clergy  who  owned  every  rood  of  its 
territory.  Not  of  the  clergy  such  as  they  have  been 
throughout  all  time  in  the  Gallican  Church,  such  as  we  know 
them  to-day,  pious,  tolerant,  austere  in  duty,  prompt  in 
charity,  but  of  a  clergy  steeped  in  intrigue,  ambition,  greed; 
that  is  to  say,  the  court  abbés,  who  were  rivals  of  the 
Roman  abbés,  idle,  elegant,  bold,  kings  of  society,  auto- 
crats of  salons,  and  frequenters  of  boudoirs.  Do  you  want 
a  type  of  such  abbés  ?  Take  the  Abbé  Maury,  proud  as  a 
duke,  insolent  as  a  lackey,  the  son  of  a  shoemaker,  and 
more  aristocratic  than  the  son  of  a  great  seigneur. 

We  have  mentioned  Avignon,  the  Roman  city  ;  let  us 
add  to  that  —  Avignon,  the  city  of  hatreds.  The  heart  of 
a  child,  pure  elsewhere  from  evil  passions,  is  born  there 
full  of  hereditary  hatreds,  bequeathed  from  father  to  son 
for  eight  hundred  years  ;  and  as  each  life  of  hatred  passes 
away  it  leaves  the  diabolical  inheritance  to  its  children. 
In  such  a  city  every  man  is  forced  to  take  a  side  and, 
according  to  the  importance  of  his  position,  do  active 
service  for  his  party. 

The  Comte  de  Fargas  was  a  royalist  before  he  came  to 
Avignon  ;  once  there,  he  became  a  fanatic  to  keep  himself 
on  the  level  of  his  party.  This  was,  as  we  have  said,  in 
1787,  at  the  dawn  of  our  independence. 

At  the  first  cry  of  liberty  uttered  in  France,  the  French 
town  of  Avignon  arose  full  of  joy  and  hope.  The  time 
had  come  at  last  when  she  might  contest  aloud  the  cession 
made  by  that  young  queen  to  redeem  her  crimes,  the  ces- 
sion of  a  city,  a  province,  and  half  a  million  of  souls. 
By  what  right  had  those  souls  been  delivered  over  for- 
evermore  to  a  foreign  master  ? 

France  was  about  to  assemble  on  the  Champ  de  Mars 
in  the  fraternal  embrace  of  the  Federation.  All  Paris 
had  toiled  to  prepare  that  immense  plateau  (where  sixty- 
seven  years  after  this  fraternal  embrace  Europe  was  con- 
voked to   the   World's   Exposition,  —  to   the   triumph  of 


THE   COMTE   DE   FARGAS.  93 

peace  and  industry  over  war).  Avignon  alone  was 
excluded  from  that  great  love-feast  ;  Avignon  was  to  have 
no  part  in  the  universal  brotherhood  ;  Avignon  —  did 
not  she  also  belong  to  France  ? 

Deputies  were  appointed  ;  they  went  to  the  Roman 
legate  and  gave  him  twenty-four  hours  to  leave  the  town. 
During  the  night  the  Roman  party,  in  revenge,  with  the 
Comte  de  Fargas  at  their  head,  erected  a  gibbet  and  hung 
an  efi&gy  upon  it  which  was  decked  with  the  tricolor 
cockade. 

The  waters  of  the  Rhone  are  turned,  the  Durance  is 
made  into  a  canal,  the  savage  torrent  of  the  melting  snows 
as  they  rush  in  liquid  avalanches  from  the  summit  of 
Mont  Ventoux  is  diverted  to  the  dikes  ;  but  the  terrible 
flood,  the  living  flood,  the  human  torrent  which  bounded 
down  the  steep  streets  of  Avignon,  once  launched,  once 
freed,  the  heavens  themselves  were  powerless  to  check. 

At  the  sight  of  that  effigy  with  the  national  colors 
dangling  to  a  gibbet,  the  whole  French  town  rose  as  one 
man,  howling  with  rage.  The  Comte  de  Fargas,  who 
knew  the  Avignon  nature,  had  retreated  to  the  house  of  a 
friend  in  the  valley  of  Vaucluse.  Four  of  his  companions, 
justly  suspected  of  taking  part  in  the  gibbeting  of  the 
effigy,  were  torn  from  their  homes,  and  hung  in  its  place. 
For  this  execution  the  populace  seized  some  ropes  belong- 
ing to  a  worthy  man  named  Lescuyer,  whom  the  royalist 
party  falsely  accused  of  having  given  them.  All  this 
happened  June  11th,  1790. 

The  French  town  wrote  to  the  National  Assembly  that 
she  gave  herself  to  France,  with  her  Rhone,  her  commerce, 
the  whole  South,  and  half  Provence.  But  the  ISTational 
Assembly  was  just  then  in  one  of  its  reactionary  fits  ;  it 
did  not  wish  to  quarrel  with  Rome  ;  it  was  temporizing 
with  the  king-,  the  missive  of  the  French  Avignon  was 
laid  over  for  a  time. 

From  that  moment  the  patriotic  movement  in  Avignon 
became  a  rebellion,  and  the  pope  was  justified  in  punishing 


94  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

and  repressing  it.  Pope  Pius  VI.  ordered  all  that  had 
been  done  in  the  Comtat  Venaissin  annulled,  the  privileges 
of  the  nobles  and  clergy  upheld,  and  the  Inquisition 
restored  in  all  its  rigor.  The  Comte  de  Fargas  returned 
triumphantly  to  Avignon,  and  not  only  did  not  conceal 
his  share  in  hanging  the  effigy,  but  he  boasted  of  it. 
Nobody  yet  dared  say  a  word.  The  pontifical  decrees 
were  posted  on  the  walls. 

One  man,  and  only  one,  in  open  day,  before  the  eyes 
of  every  one,  walked  to  the  wall  and  tore  the  posters 
down.  His  name  was  Lescuyer.  He  was  the  same  man 
whom  the  royalists  accused  of  having  furnished  the  ropes 
to  hang  the  royalists.  This,  it  will  be  remembered,  was 
unjust.  He  was  not  a  young  man,  carried  away  by  the 
impetuosity  of  his  years  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  almost 
an  old  man,  who  did  not  even  belong  to  the  place.  He 
was  a  Frenchman  from  Picardy,  ardent,  but  reflecting, 
and  long  a  notary  at  Avignon. 

All  Roman  Avignon  shuddered  at  the  sacrilegious  crime, 
a  crime  so  great  that  the  statue  of  the  Virgin  was  seen  to 
weep.  Avignon,  you  will  please  remark,  was  Italy,  —  Italy, 
which  must  have  her  miracles  at  any  price,  and  if  heaven 
does  not  make  them,  gets  some  one  to  invent  them.  The 
miracle  took  place  in  the  church  of  the  Franciscans.  The 
crowd  rushed  there. 

A  singular  rumor  was  circulated  at  the  same  instant.  A 
heavy  closed  coffer  had  been  carried  through  the  town. 
This  coffer  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  townspeople. 
What  did  it  contain  ?  Two  hours  later  it  was  not  a  coffer 
at  all,  it  had  grown  to  be  eighteen  cases  on  their  way  to 
the  Rhone.  As  for  the  contents  of  those  cases,  a  porter 
had  revealed  them  ;  they  were  the  hoards  of  tlie  Mont-de- 
piété.  The  hoards  of  the  pawn-shops  !  the  property  of 
the  poor!  The  poorer  a  city,  the  richer  the  pawn-shops. 
Few  pawn-shops  could  boast  of  being  as  rich  as  the  Mont- 
de-piété  of  Avignon.  This  was  no  matter  of  partisan 
feeling;    it  was  robbery,  infamous  robbery.      The  Whites 


THE   COMTE    DE    FARGAS.  95 

and  the  Blues,  royalists  and  patriots  together,  rushed  to 
the  church  of  the  Franciscans,  not  to  see  the  miracle,  but 
to  shout  that  the  municipality  must  give  account  of  such 
an  act. 

M.  de  Fargas  was  naturally  among  those  who  shouted 
the  loudest. 


96  THE    FIltST   REPUBLIC. 


X. 

THE    TROUILLAS    TOWER. 

Now  Lescuyer,  the  patriot  who  had  torn  down  the  pontifical 
decrees,  and  was  falsely  accused  of  lending  the  ropes,  was 
also  the  secretary  of  the  municipality.  His  name  was  thrown 
to  the  crowd  as  having  not  only  committed  the  above  mis- 
deeds, but  also  as  having  signed  the  order  to  the  keeper  of 
the  Mont-de-piété  for  the  removal  of  the  goods. 

Four  men  were  sent  to  seize  Lescuyer  and  bring  him  to 
the  church.  They  found  him  in  the  street  going  tranquilly 
to  his  work  at  the  municipality.  The  four  men  fell  upon 
him,  and  dragged  him  to  the  church  with  ferocious  cries. 
There  Lescuyer  saw,  by  the  flaming  eyes  about  him,  the 
fists  that  threatened  him,  the  shouts  that  demanded  his 
death,  —  Lescuyer  saw  that  he  had  entered  a  circle  of  hell 
forgotten  by  Dante.  The  only  idea  that  he  could  form  as 
to  the  cause  of  this  hatred  was  the  violent  seizure  of 
the  ropes  from  his  shop  and  his  own  tearing  down  of  the 
decrees. 

He  rushed  into  the  pulpit,  and  there,  in  the  voice  of  a 
man  who  not  only  believes  himself  blameless,  but  would 
act  in  the  same  way  again,  he  said  :  — 

"Citizens,  I  believe  the  revolution  necessary;  I  have 
acted  in  accordance  with  that  conviction." 

The  Whites  knew  well  that  if  Lescuyer  were  allowed 
to  explain  himself  he  was  saved.  That  would  ill  have 
suited  them.  Obeying  a  sign  from  the  Comte  de  Fargas 
they  flung  themselves  upon  him,  tore  him  from  the  pulpit, 
pushed  him  into  the  midst  of  the  howling  pack  of  brutes, 
who  dragged  him  to  the  altar,  uttering  that  terrible  cry 


THE   TROU  ILL  AS   TOWER.  97' 

which  is  something  between  the  hissing  of  a  serpent  and 
the  growl  of  a  tiger,  that  murderous,  "  Zou  !  zou  !  zou  !  " 
peculiar  to  the  populace  of  Avignon. 

Lescuyer  knew  the  fatal  cry.  He  tried  to  take  refuge 
on  the  steps  of  the  altar,  but  fell.  A  journeyman  mattress- 
maker  armed  with  a  bludgeon  felled  him  with  a  blow  on 
the  head  that  broke  the  stick  in  two. 

Then  they  flung  themselves  on  that  poor  body  with  the 
ferocity  and  gayety  which  characterize  the  people  of  the 
South  ;  men  sang,  and  danced  upon  his  stomach  ;  women  cut, 
or  rather  scalloped  his  lips  with  their  scissors  tliat  he  might 
expiate  what  they  called  the  blasphemies  he  had  uttered. 
From  the  midst  of  that  awful  group  came  a  cry,  or  rather  a 
rattle,  a  death-rattle,  and  it  said  :  — 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  in  the  name  of  the  Virgin,  in 
the  name  of  humanity,  kill  me  at  once  !  " 

By  common  consent  the  crowd  drew  away  from  him  ; 
they  left  the  wretched  man,  lacerated,  bleeding,  to  endure 
his  agony.  It  lasted  five  hours,  during  which  time,  amid 
laughter  and  insults  and  mockery,  that  poor  body  palpitated 
on  the  steps  of  the  altar.  That  is  how  men  kill  each  other 
in  Avignon.  But  wait  !  presently  you  will  see  that  they 
have  still  another  way. 

While  Lescuyer  lay  there  dying,  it  occurred  to  a  man  of 
the  Blues,  that  is,  one  belonging  to  the  patriot  party,  to  go 
to  the  Mont-de-piété  and  make  inquiries.  There  he  learned 
that  no  such  event  as  rumor  had  spread  about  had  occurred. 
Not  an  article  had  been  taken  from  the  building.  So,  then, 
it  was  not  as  an  accomplice  in  robbing  the  poor  that  Lescuyer 
was  so  cruelly  murdered  —  it  was  as  a  patriot  ! 

There  was  at  this  time  in  Avignon  a  man  who  took  that 
part  in  all  revolutions  which  is  neither  white  nor  blue,  but 
red,  — the  red  of  blood.  Those  terrible  leaders  of  the  South 
have  so  dreadful  a  notoriety  that  we  need  but  to  name  them, 
and  all  men,  even  the  most  illiterate,  know  them.  This 
man  was  Jourdan.  Liar  and  braggart,  he  had  made  the 
populace  believe  that  it  was  he  who  cut  the  throat  of  the 

VOL.   II.  —  7 


98  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

governor  of  the  Bastille  ;  hence  he  was  called  Jourdan 
Coupe-ïête  ;  his  real  name  was  Mathieu  Jouve.  He  was 
not  a  Provençal  ;  he  came  from  Puy-en-Velay,  and  had  been 
in  his  early  days  a  muleteer  on  the  rugged  hills  that  sur- 
rounded his  native  town  ;  then  a  soldier  who  never  saw  a 
war  (war  might  have  made  him  more  humane),  then  a 
publican  in  Paris,  and  finally,  a  trader  in  madder  at 
Avignon. 

He  now  collected  three  hundred  men,  seized  the  gates 
of  the  city,  left  half  his  troop  to  guard  them,  and  marched 
with  the  rest  to  the  church  of  the  Franciscans  preceded 
by  two  pieces  of  artillery.  He  posted  the  cannon  in  battery 
before  the  church  and  tired.  The  murderers  dispersed  like 
a  flock  of  frightened  birds,  —  some  through  the  windows, 
some  through  the  sacristy,  leaving  many  dead  behind  them 
on  the  steps  of  the  church.  Jourdan  and  his  men  sprang 
over  the  bodies  and  rushed  into  the  sacred  precincts.  No 
one  was  now  there  but  the  statue  of  the  Virgin  and  the  hap- 
less Lescuyer.  He  still  breathed.  They  asked  him  who 
had  murdered  him,  and  he  named,  not  those  who  had  struck 
him,  but  the  man  who  had  ordered  his  death. 

That  man,  as  we  already  know,  was  the  Comte  de  Fargas. 
Jourdan  and  his  men  were  careful  not  to  kill  the  dying  man 
who  prayed  them  for  death  ;  no  !  his  death-agony  should  be 
made  a  crowning  means  to  rouse  the  people.  They  took 
that  mangled  living  mass,  that  half-dead  body,  and  bore 
it,  bleeding,  gasping,  with  the  death-rattle  in  its  throat, 
while  they  shouted  :  — 

"  Fargas  !  Fargas  !  we  want  Fargas  !  " 

At  that  sight  all  men  fled,  closing  doors  and  windows. 
At  the  end  of  an  hour  Jourdan  and  his  troop  were  masters 
of  the  town.  Lescuyer  died  before  any  one  took  notice 
that  his  last  breath  was  gone.  Little  they  cared  ;  his  agony 
had  served  their  purpose.  Jourdan  profited  by  the  terror 
he  inspired  to  clinch  his  victory  and  arrest  some  eighty 
persons, — the  murderers,  or  the  asserted  murderers  of 
Lescuyer,  consequently  tlie  accomplices  of  Fargas. 


THE    TROUILLAS    TOWER.  99 

As  for  Fargas  himself,  lie  was  not  yet  arrested,  but  there 
was  every  certainty  that  he  would  be,  for  all  the  gates  of 
the  town  were  carefully  guarded,  and  the  Comte  de  Fargas 
was  known  by  sight  to  every  inhabitant. 

Out  of  the  eighty  persons  arrested,  probably  thirty  had 
never  set  foot  in  the  church  ;  but  when  a  good  occasion 
offers  to  get  rid  of  your  enemies  it  is  wise  to  profit  b}^  it  ; 
good  opportunities  are  rare.  These  eighty  persons  were 
crowded  into  the  Trouiilas  tower. 

It  was  in  this  tower  that  the  Inquisition  had  formerly 
tortured  its  prisoners.  Along  its  walls  may  still  be  seen 
the  sooty  grease  which  rose  from  human  flesh  burned  at 
the  stake.  You  will  be  shown,  if  you  go  there,  all  the 
implements  of  torture,  carefully  preserved.  The  boiler, 
the  furnace,  the  wooden  horse,  the  chains,  the  pits,  even 
the  bones  of  the  victims,  —  these  are  all  there  to-day. 

Into  this  tower,  built  by  Clement  IV.,  the  eighty  prisoners 
were  now  thrust.  They  were  safely  locked  up  in  the 
Trouiilas  tower;  but  once  there,  they  became  embarrassing. 
Who  was  to  try  them  and  judge  them  ?  There  were  no 
legal  tribunals  but  those  of  the  pope.  How  were  these  men 
to  be  killed  as  thej^  had  killed  Lescuyer  ? 

We  have  said  that  at  least  one  third,  probably  half,  of  the 
eighty  prisoners  had  not  only  taken  no  part  in  the  murder, 
but  had  not  even  set  foot  in  the  church.  The  only  thing 
to  do,  therefore,  was  to  kill  them,  not  try  them  ;  killing 
might  pass  as  reprisals. 

But  to  kill  eighty  persons,  requires  the  assistance  of  a 
good  many  killers.  Jourdan  improvised  a  sort  of  court, 
which  held  a  session  in  one  of  the  council-rooms  of  the 
palace.  It  consisted  of  a  clerk,  named  Raphel  a  president, 
half  French,  half  Italian,  an  orator  in  patois,  named  Barbe 
Savournin  de  la  Roua  ;  and  three  or  four  poor  devils,  a  baker 
and  a  pork-butcher  among  them,  whose  names  are  lost  in  the 
crowd  of  events.     They  all  cried  out  with  one  accord  :  — 

"  We  must  kill  them  all  ;  if  only  one  gets  away,  he  will 
be  a  witness." 


100  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

But  still  the  killers  were  lacking.  There  were  not  more 
than  twenty  men  left  in  the  courtyard  ;  all  were  of  the  lower 
classes  in  Avignon  ;  among  them  were  a  wig-maker,  a 
women's-shoe-maker,  a  cobbler,  a  mason,  an  upholsterer  ;  all 
poorly  armed,  —  one  with  a  sabre,  another  with  a  bayonet, 
some  with  iron  bars,  and  one  with  a  wooden  bar  hardened 
by  fire.  They  were  all  chilled  by  a  drizzling  October  rain  ; 
it  was  really  difficult  to  turn  these  men  into  murderers. 

Nonsense  !  nothing  is  difficult  to  the  devil.  There  comes 
a  moment  in  times  like  these  when  it  seems  that  Providence 
gives  up  the  game,  and  Satan  has  his  innings. 

Satan  now  entered  that  cold  and  muddy  courtyard,  hav- 
ing clothed  himself  in  the  form,  the  garments,  and  the  face 
of  an  apothecary,  named  Mende.  He  set  out  a  table,  lighted 
it  with  two  lanterns,  placed  upon  it  jugs,  bottles,  pitchers, 
and  glasses.  What  infernal  beverage  had  he  put  in  those 
receptacles  ?  It  was  never  known,  but  the  results  are 
known.  All  those  who  drank  that  devilish  drink  were 
seized  with  sudden  fury,  an  awful  lust  of  blood  and  murder. 
It  was  only  necessary  to  show  them  the  door  and  they 
plunged  into  that  dungeon. 

The  massacre  lasted  all  night  ;  all  that  night  the  cries, 
moans,  wails  of  the  dying  sounded  through  the  darkness. 
They  killed  all,  men  and  v/omen,  and  it  took  time  ;  the 
killers,  as  we  have  said,  were  drunk  and  ill-armed  ;  never- 
theless, they  did  it.  As  they  killed  they  flung  the  bodies, 
the  wounded,  the  dead,  and  dying  together,  into  a  pit  ;  sixty 
feet  they  fell,  the  men  first,  the  women  after  them.  At 
nine  in  the  morning,  after  twelve  hours'  butchery,  a  voice 
was  heard  from  the  sepulchre,  crying  out  :  — 

"  In  mercy,  kill  me,  1  cannot  die  !  " 

A  man,  it  was  the  armorer  Bouffier,  leaned  over  the  hole  ; 
the  others  dared  not. 

**  Who  cried  ?  "  they  asked  him. 

"  Lami,"  he  answered,  stepping  back. 

"  Well,"  they  said,  ''  what  did  you  see  ?  " 

"  Such  a  marmalade  !  "  he  said  ;  "  all  pell-mell,  men  and 


THE    TROUILLAS    TOWER.  101 

women,  priests  and  pretty  girls  ;  enough  to  make  one  die 
of  laughing." 

At  that  moment  shouts  of  triumph  were  heard.  The 
name  of  Fargas  echoed  in  the  air.  The  count  was  being 
dragged  before  Jourdan  ;  they  had  found  him  hidden  in  a 
cask  in  the  cellar  of  an  inn.  He  was  half  naked,  and  so 
drenched  in  blood  that  they  feared  he  would  drop  down 
dead  if  they  let  go  of  him. 


102  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 


XI. 

THE    BROTHER    AND    SISTER. 

The  killers,  who  seemed  by  this  time  to  be  weary,  were 
only  drunk.  Just  as  the  sight  of  wine  rouses  the  vigor  of 
the  drunkard,  so  the  smell  of  blood  revived  the  slaughterers. 
They  were  lying,  half  asleep,  on  the  floor  when  the  name 
of  Fargas  echoed  in  their  ears.  They  opened  their  eyes 
and  rose. 

So  far  from  being  dead,  the  latter  was  only  slightly 
wounded.  But  he  was  scarcely  in  the  midst  of  these  canni- 
bals before  he  knew  that  his  death  was  inevitable,  and  one 
idea  alone  filled  his  mind,  —  to  make  that  death  as  speedy 
and  painless  as  possible.  With  that  thought  he  flung  him- 
self on  the  man  nearest  to  him,  who  had  a  knife  in  his 
hand,  and  bit  him  so  savagely  in  the  cheek  that  the  latter 
Instinctively  struck  out  with  the  hand  which  held  the  knife, 
and  buried  the  blade  to  the  hilt  in  the  count's  breast. 
Fargas  dropped  dead  without  uttering  a  sound. 

Then  they  did  upon  that  dead  body  what  they  fain  would 
have  done  upon  him  living.  They  cast  themselves  upon  it, 
each  eager  to  possess  a  scrap,  a  fragment  of  the  flesh. 
When  men  reach  that  point  there  is  very  little  difference 
between  them  and  cannibals. 

They  lighted  a  fire,  and  flung  the  mutilated  remains  upon 
it  ;  and  so,  as  if  no  new  God  and  no  new  Goddess  could 
be  glorified  without  a  human  sacrifice.  Liberty  on  that 
day  was  honored  with  two  martyrs  :  the  patriot  martyr, 
Lescuyer  ;  the  royalist  martyr,  Fargas. 

While  these  events  were  occurring  in  Avignon,  the  two 
children,  ignorantly  happy,  lived  in  a  little  house  which 


THE   BROTHER   AND   SISTER.  103 

was  called,  on  account  of  the  three  trees  that  shaded  it, 
"  The  House  of  the  Three  Cypresses."  Their  father  had 
left  them  in  the  morning,  as  he  often  did,  to  go  to  Avignon. 
The  first  night  passed  without  anxiety.  He  had  a  town- 
house  as  well  as  the  little  country-house,  and  it  often 
happened  that  the  count,  either  for  business  or  pleasure, 
remained  a  day  or  two  at  Avignon. 

Lucien  was  very  fond  of  the  country-place.  He  lived 
there  with  a  sister,  three  years  younger  than  himself, 
whom  he  adored,  waited  upon  by  a  cook  and  a  man-servant. 
His  sister  returned  his  brotherly  affection  with  all  the  pas- 
sion of  a  Southern  nature,  —  a  nature  which  cannot  love,  and 
cannot  hate,  by  halves.  Brought  up  together,  these  young 
people  had  never  been  parted.  Although  of  different  sexes, 
they  had  had  the  same  masters  and  followed  the  same 
studies.  The  result  was  that  Diana  at  ten  years  of  age 
was  something  of  a  boy,  and  Lucien  at  thirteen  was  some- 
thing of  a  girl. 

As  the  country-house  was  not  more  than  two  miles  from 
Avignon,  the  market-people  brought  out  the  news  of  the 
disturbances  the  next  morning.  The  children  trembled  for 
their  father.  Lucien  ordered  his  horse  ;  but  Diana  would 
not  let  her  brother  go  alone.  She  had  her  own  horse,  and 
was  as  good,  perhaps  a  better  rider  than  he,  and  both 
started  for  the  town. 

They  had  hardly  reached  it  before  they  heard  the  news 
that  their  father  had  been  captured  and  dragged  in  the 
direction  of  the  Papal  palace,  where  a  court  was  held  to 
"judge  the  royalists."  Diana  dashed  at  a  gallop  up  the 
steep  slope  that  led  to  the  old  fortress,  Lucien  following 
her  about  ten  paces  behind.  Together  they  reached  the 
courtyard  where  the  remains  of  the  fire  in  which  their 
father's  body  had  been  burned  were  still  smoking.  Several 
of  the  murderers  recognized  them,  and  cried  out  :  — 

"Death  to  the  wolf-cubs  !  " 

They  sprang  to  the  horses'  heads,  but  as  they  did  so,  the 
man  who  laid  a  hand  on  Diana's  bridle  received  a  cut  across 


104  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  face  from  her  whip.  This  act,  though  it  was  ouly  in 
legitimate  self-defence,  redoubled  the  cries  and  threats. 
But  at  that  moment  Jourdan  Coupe-Tête  advanced  ; 
whether  through  lassitude,  weariness  of  killing,  or  a  senti- 
ment  of  justice,  a  ray  of  human  feeling  did  cross  his  soul. 

*'  Yesterday,"  he  said,  "  in  the  heat  of  action  and  of  ven- 
geance, we  may  have  confounded  the  innocent  with  the 
guilty  ;  but  to-day  such  an  error  cannot  be  allowed.  The 
Comte  de  Fargas  was  guilty  of  insulting  France,  of  mur- 
dering humanity.  He  hung  the  national  colors  on  an 
infamous  gibbet;  he  murdered  Lescuyer.  He  deserved 
death,  and  you  gave  it  to  him;  that  was  well.  France  and 
humanity  are  avenged.  But  his  children  have  been  con- 
cerned in  no  crime  of  barbarism  or  injustice  ;  they  are 
innocent.  Let  them  return  to  their  home,  and  not  be  able 
to  say  of  us,  as  we  say  of  royalists  :  "  They  are  murderers 
and  assassins." 

Diana  did  not  wish  to  fly  ;  to  her  mind,  that  was  sacrific- 
ing vengeance  ;  but  alone  with  her  brother,  what  else  could 
she  do  ?  Lucien  took  the  bridle  of  her  horse  and  led  her 
away. 

When  they  reached  home  the  two  orphans  fell  into  one 
another's  arms  and  burst  into  tears.  They  had  no  one  in 
the  world  to  love  except  each  other.  They  did  love  sacredly, 
fraternally.  And  thus  they  grew  up  till  Diana  was  eighteen, 
and  Lucien  twenty-one. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  the  Thermidorian  reaction  was 
organized.  Their  name  was  a  guarantee  of  their  opinions. 
They  sought  no  one,  but  agents  came  to  them.  Lucien 
listened  coldly  to  the  proposals  made  to  him,  and  asked  for 
time  to  reflect.  Diana  seized  them  eagerly,  and  made  a 
sign  that  she  would  undertake  to  bring  her  brother  to  con- 
sent. In  fact,  she  was  no  sooner  alone  with  him  than  she 
passionately  urged  upon  him  the  great  principle  .•  Noblesse 
oblige.  Lucien  had  been  born  and  bred  in  all  religious 
and  royalist  sentiments  ;  he  had  his  father  to  avenge  ;  his 
sister's  influence  was  powerful  ;  and  he  Anally  gave  consent. 


THE    BROTHER    AND    SISTER.  105 

From  that  moment,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  end  of  1796,  he 
was  a  member  of  the  Company  of  Jehu  in  its  Southern 
division.     We  know  the  rest. 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  violence  of  the  feelings 
which  assailed  Diana  from  the  moment  of  her  brother's 
arrest  until  that  on  which  she  learned  that  he  had  been 
taken  for  trial  to  the  department  of  the  Ain.  She  instantly 
collected  all  the  money  she  could  dispose  of  at  the  moment, 
jumped  into  a  post-chaise,  and  started.  We  know  that  she 
arrived  too  late,  learned  at  Nantua  of  her  brother's  abduc- 
tion, and,  thanks  to  the  judge's  acumen,  was  able  to 
discover  the  probable  cause  of  the  attack  on  the  gaol  and 
on  the  court-house. 

At  twelve  o'clock  of  the  same  day  she  reached  the  hôtel 
des  Grottes  de  Ceyzeriat  in  Bourg.  She  was  scarcely  there 
before  she  went  to  the  Prefecture  and  related  what  had 
happened  at  Nantua.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  the 
deeds  of  the  Company  of  Jehu  were  brought  to  the  ears  of 
the  prefect.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  sympathized  with 
these  young  outlaws.  Often  when  he  had  given  orders 
to  track  them,  or  arrest  them,  he  had  been  conscious  of 
a  filmy  net-work  drawn  around  him  ;  and  though  the 
hands  that  di'ew  it  could  not  be  clearly  seen,  he  felt  the 
presence  of  that  mysterious  resisting  force  which  paralyzes 
the  orders  of  power. 

This  time  the  denunciation  was  clear  and  precise.  The 
men  had  forced  their  way,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  into  a 
prison,  and  carried  off  their  accomplice.  They  had  also 
forced  their  way  into  the  court-house  and  seized  the  papers 
of  the  State.  They  had  also  been  seen  returning  in  the 
direction  of  Bourg. 

The  prefect  summoned  the  commander  of  the  gendarme- 
rie, the  judge  of  the  court,  and  the  commissary  of  police, 
and  he  made  Diana  repeat  in  their  presence  her  statement 
against  these  formidable  and  mysterious  assailants.  He 
declared  that  he  needed  three  days  to  sift  the  matter 
properly,  and  requested  Diana  to  remain  during  that  time 


1^06  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

in  Bourg.  Diana  saw  that  the  prefect  had  an  interest  of 
his  own  in  pursuing  these  men,  and  she  consented.  She 
went  back  to  the  hôtel,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  hunger, 
for  she  had  eaten  nothing  since  leaving  Avignon. 

She  now  obtained  something  to  eat,  went  to  bed,  and 
slept  the  sleep  with  which  youth  triumphs,  in  victorious 
rest,  over  sorrow. 

The  next  day  she  was  awakened  by  a  great  noise  in  the 
street  beneath  her  windows.  She  rose  and  looked  through 
the  blinds,  but  saw  nothing  except  a  crowd  of  men  swaying 
hither  and  thither.  And  yet  something  warned  her  inter- 
nally that  a  new  trial  awaited  her.  She  slipped  on  a 
dressing-gown,  and  without  fastening  up  her  hair,  dis- 
arranged in  sleep,  she  opened  the  window  and  looked  down 
from  the  balcony. 

No  sooner  had  she  glanced  into  the  street  than  she  gave 
a  great  cry  and  threw  herself  backwards  ;  then  she  rushed 
down  the  stairway,  maddened,  her  hair  streaming,  her  face 
pale  to  lividness,  and  fell  upon  the  body  which  formed  the 
centre  of  the  excitement,  crying  out  :  — 

"  My  brother  !  Oh,  my  brother  !  " 


SOME   OLD   ACQUAINTANCES.  107 


XII. 

IN    WHICH    THE    READER    FINDS    SOME 
OLD    ACQUAINTANCES. 

Our  readers  must  now  go  with  us  to  Milan,  where,  as  we 
have  said,  Bonaparte,  who  no  longer  called  himself  Buona- 
parte, had  his  head-quarters. 

On  the  same  day  and  at  the  same  hour  when  Diana  de 
Fargas  was  finding  her  brother  in  so  tragic  and  painful  a 
manner,  three  men  issued  from  the  barracks  of  the  Army 
of  Italy,  while  three  others  issued  from  those  assigned  to 
the  Army  of  the  Rhine.  General  Bonaparte  having  asked 
for  reinforcements  after  his  first  victories,  two  thousand 
men  had  been  detached  from  Moreau's  army  and  had  been 
sent,  under  command  of  Bernadette,  to  the  Army  of  Italy. 

These  men  walked  in  two  groups,  at  some  distance  frorù 
each  other,  toward  the  Porta  Orientale.  This  gate,  which 
is  the  one  nearest  the  barracks,  led  to  the  place  outside 
the  walls  where  numerous  duels  brought  about  by  much 
rivalry  in  courage  and  many  differences  of  opinion  between 
the  soldiers  of  the  North  and  those  of  the  South  were 
fought. 

An  army  is  always  made  in  the  image  of  its  general  ; 
his  spirit  is  shed  among  the  officers  and  communicated  by 
them  to  the  soldiers.  This  division  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine  commanded  by  Moreau,  which  had  now  reinforced 
the  Army  of  Italy,  was  modelled  upon  Moreau. 

It  was  on  him  and  on  Pichegru  that  the  royalist  faction 
cast  their  eyes.  Pichegru  had  been  on  the  point  of  yielding. 
But,  wearied  with  the  Prince  de  Condé's  hesitations  and 
unwilling  to  introduce  the  enemy  into  France  until   the 


108  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

preliminary  conditions  as  to  the  duties  of  the  king  and 
the  rights  of  the  people  should  be  clearly  settled,  the 
correspondence  between  himself  and  the  Prince  de  Condé 
ended  without  results,  and  he  resolved  to  make  his  revolu- 
tion, not  through  his  military  influence,  but  in  the  high 
position  which  his  fellow-citizens  had  just  created  for  him 
as  president  of  the  Council  of  the  Five  Hundred. 

His  army  was  therefore  cold  and  sober  as  himself,  and 
was  held  by  him  under  strict  discipline. 

The  Army  of  Italy,  on  the  contrary,  was  made  up  of  the 
Southern  revolutionaries,  with  hearts  as  impetuous  in 
their  opinions  as  in  their  courage.  For  over  a  year  and 
a  half,  while  it  was  adding  signally  to  the  glory  of  France, 
the  eyes  of  all  Europe  had  been  fixed  upon  that  army.  It 
was  not  a  retreat  on  which  the  Army  of  Italy  prided  itself, 
but  a  succession  of  victories.  Instead  of  being  forgotten 
and  neglected  by  the  government,  like  the  armies  of  the 
Rhine  and  the  Sambre-et-Meuse,  generals,  officers,  and 
soldiers  were  crowned  with  honors,  heaped  with  money, 
gorged  with  pleasures.  Serving  first  under  General  Bona- 
parte, —  that  is,  beneath  the  star  from  which  had  emanated 
for  a  year  and  a  half  all  the  glorious  light  that  dazzled 
the  world,  —  then  under  Generals  Massena,  Joubert,  and 
Augereau,  who  set  them  the  example  of  ardent  repub- 
licanism, they  were  kept  informed  (by  order  of  Bonaparte, 
who  circulated  among  them  all  the  newspapers  which  he 
inspired),  —  they  were  kept  informed  of  the  events  which 
happened  in  Paris,  and  they  were  well  aware  of  a  reaction 
which  threatened  to  be  in  its  results  not  a  whit  less  impor- 
tant than  that  of  the  13th  Vendémiaire.  To  these  men, 
these  soldiers,  who  did  not  discuss  opinions,  but  received 
them  ready-made,  the  Directory,  succeeding  the  Convention 
and  inheriting  its  traditions,  was  still  the  Revolutionary 
government  to  which  they  had  devoted  themselves  in  1792. 
They  asked  but  one  thing,  now  that  they  had  vanquished 
the  Austrians  and  felt  that  there  was  nothing  more  to  do 
in  Italy,  and  that  was  to  recross  the  Alps  and  sabre  all  the 
remaining  aristocrats  in  Paris. 


SOME    OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  109 

Each  of  these  armies  was  represented  in  the  two  groups 
we  have  seen  issuing  from  their  barracks  on  the  way  to 
the  Porta  Orientale.  One,  which  couhl  be  recognized  by 
its  uniform  as  belonging  to  those  tireless  heroes  who 
started  from  the  Bastille  and  made  their  way  round  the 
world,  was  composed  of  sergeant-major  Faraud  (him  who 
married  the  Goddess  Reasou)  and  his  two  inseparable 
companions  Groseiller  and  Vincent,  who  had  both  attained 
to  the  eminent  rank  of  sergeant. 

The  other  group,  which  belonged  to  the  cavalry,  was 
composed  of  the  chasseur  Falou,  who,  it  will  be  remembered, 
was  appointed  sergeant  of  cavalry  by  Pichegru,  and  two  of 
his  companions,  one  a  sergeant,  the  other  a  corporal. 

Falou,  belonging  to  the  Army  of  the  Rhine,  had  not  been 
promoted  since  the  day  on  which  Pichegru  had  given  him 
his  grade.  Faraud,  now  with  the  Army  of  Italy,  still 
remained,  it  is  true,  in  the  same  rank  he  had  received 
Defore  the  lines  at  Weissembourg  (where  a  great  many 
poor  devils  stick  when  their  want  of  education  hinders 
their  being  officers)  ;  but  he  had  twice  been  named  in 
the  orders  of  the  day,  and  Bonaparte  had  asked  to  see 
him,  and  had  said  :  — 

"  Faraud,  you  are  a  brave  fellow  !  " 

It  resulted  that  Faraud  was  quite  as  well  satisfied  to  be 
placed  in  the  orders  of  the  day  and  be  thus  addressed  by 
Bonaparte  as  if  he  had  been  made  a  sub-lieutenant. 

Now  cavalry-sergeant  Falou  and  sergeant-major  Faraud 
had  addressed  to  each  other  words  which,  in  the  opinion 
of  their  comrades,  demanded  the  honor  of  a  walk  through 
the  Porta  Orientale.  Which  means  that  the  two  friends, 
to  employ  the  usual  terms  under  such  circumstances,  were 
about  to  refresh  themselves  with  a  passage  at  arms. 

In  fact,  they  had  scarcely  passed  beyond  the  gate  before 
the  seconds  on  both  sides  began  to  look  about  for  a  suitable 
spot  where  the  men  should  have  equal  advantages  of  sun 
and  ground.  The  spot  found,  the  principals  were  informed  ; 
they  followed  their  seconds,  inspected  the  ground,  declared 


110  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

themselves  satisfied,  auil  immediately  prepared  to  utilize 
ifc,  by  flinging  off  tlieir  fatigue  caps,  coats,  and  waistcoats, 
and  rolling  up  their  shirt-sleeves  above  tiieir  elbows. 

Faraud's  arm  bore  this  legend  tattooed  upon  it  round  a 
flaming  heart:  "All  for  the  Goddess  Reason." 

Falou,  less  exclusive  in  his  affections,  bore  in  the  same 
manner  the  epicurean  motto  :  "  Long  live  wine  !  long  live 
love  !  " 

The  combat  was  to  take  place  with  those  infantry  sabres 
called  flints,  —  probably  because  they  gave  out  sparks  when 
struck  together.  Each'  man  received  his  sabre  from  one  of 
his  seconds  and  sprang  toward  his  adversary. 

'•■  What  the  devil  is  one  to  do  with  a  kitchen  knife  ?  " 
demanded  cavalry-sergeant  Falou,  accustomed  to  the  heavy 
sabre  of  a  trooper  and  flourishing  the  flint  as  if  it  were  a 
pen,     "  It 's  good  for  cutting  cabbages  and  scraping  carrots." 

"And  it 's  good,"  responded  sergeant-major  Faraud  (with 
the  old  twist  of  the  neck  we  remember  in  him),  "it's  good 
to  shave  a  moustache  off  an  adversary,  for  folks  who  don't 
fear  close  quarters." 

And  with  that  he  made  a  feint  of  striking  at  the  thigh 
and  aimed  a  blow  at  his  adversary's  head,  the  latter  parry- 
ing just  in  time. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  "  said  Falou,  "  Look  out,  sergeant  !  moustaches 
are  in  general  orders  ;  it  is  forbidden  in  the  regiment  to  cut 
'era  off,  and  specially  to  let  'em  be  cut  off;  and  those  who 
permit  such  an  impropriety  are  punished  —  punished," 
repeated  the  cavalry-sergeant,  seeking  his  chance,  —  "  pun- 
ished with  a  wrist  blow." 

And  before  Faraud  could  parry,  his  adversary  got  in  a 
blow  on  the  spot  he  had  himself  indicated  by  name.  The 
blood  spurted  instantly  ;  but  Faraud,  furious  at  being  hit, 
called  out  :  — 

"  It 's  nothing  !  it 's  nothing  !     Go  on  !  " 

And  he  recovered  guard.  But  the  seconds  rushed  between 
the  combatants,  declaring  that  honor  was  satisfied. 

Upon  that  declaration  Faraud  flung  down  his  sabre  and 


SOME   OLD    ACQUAINTANCES.  WÛ 

held  out  his  arm.  One  of  the  seconds  pulled  out  a  hand- 
kerchief, and  with  a  dexterity  which  showed  his  practice 
in  such  affairs  he  began  to  bind  up  the  wound.  This 
operation  was  nearly  finished  when,  from  behind  a  clump 
of  trees  about  twenty  paces  from  the  combatants,  came  a 
cavalcade  of  horsemen. 

"  Ouf  !  the  commander-in-chief  !  "  said  Falou. 

The  soldiers  looked  about  to  see  if  there  was  any  way 
of  hiding  from  the  general's  eye  ;  but  that  eye  was  already 
upon  them,  and  with  a  turn  of  the  general's  wrist  he  sent 
his  horse  in  their  direction.  The  soldiers  stood  motion- 
less, right  hands  saluting,  the  left  at  the  seams  of  their 
trousers.     Blood  was  trickling  from  Faraud's  arm. 


112  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XIII. 


CITIZENS    AND    MESSIEURS. 


Bonaparte  stopped  at  four  paces  from  them,  making  a  sign 
to  his  staff  to  stay  where  they  were.  Motionless  on  his 
horse,  which  was  as  motionless  as  he,  stooping  slightly, 
partly  on  account  of  the  heat  and  partly  because  of  the 
illness  from  which  he  was  then  suffering,  with  fixed  eyes 
half  covered  by  the  upper  lids,  through  the  lashes  of  which 
gleamed  a  ray  of  light,  he  resembled  a  bronze  statue. 

"So,"  he  said  in  his  curt  voice,  "it  seems  that  duels  are 
fought  here.  And  yet  it  is  known  that  I  object  to  duels. 
The  blood  of  Frenchmen  belongs  to  France  ;  it  is  for  France 
only  that  it  ought  to  flow."  Then,  looking  from  one  to 
another  of  the  combatants,  his  eyes  rested  finally  on  the 
sergeant-major.  "  How  is  it,"  he  continued,  "  that  a  brave 
man  like  you.  Faraud  —  " 

Bonaparte  acquired  at  this  time  and  kept  through  life,  as 
a  principle  or  as  matter  of  calculation,  the  habit  of  remember- 
ing the  faces  of  the  men  who  distinguished  themselves,  so 
as  to  be  able,  on  occasion,  to  call  them  by  their  names. 
This  was  a  distinction  that  never  failed  of  its  effect. 

Faraud  quivered  with  joy  when  the  commander-in-chief 
named  him,  and  he  rose  on  the  points  of  his  toes. 

Bonaparte  saw  the  movement  and  smiled  to  himself  as  he 
continued  :  — 

"  How  is  it  that  a  brave  man  like  you,  who  has  twice 
been  put  in  the  order  of  the  day  of  your  regiment,  once  at 
Lodi  and  again  at  Rivoli,  should  disregard  my  orders  ?  As 
for  your  adversary,  whom  I  do  not  know  —  " 


CITIZENS   AND    MESSIEUKS.  113 

The  general  emphasized  the  words  intentionally.  Ealou 
frowned  ;  they  pricked  into  his  flanks  like  a  spur. 

''  Pardon  me,  excuse  me,  general  !  "  he  interrupted.  "  If 
you  don't  know  me,  that 's  because  you  are  too  young,  and 
because  you  were  not  in  the  Army  of  the  Rhine,  at  the 
battle  of  Dawendorff,  and  the  battle  of  Frœschwiller,  and 
the  re-taking  of  the  lines  of  Weissembourg.  If  you  had 
been  —  " 

"  I  was  at  Toulon,"  said  Bonaparte,  curtly.  "  If  you 
chased  the  Prussians  from  France  at  Weisèembourg,  I 
chased  the  British  at  Toulon  ;  and  that  was  quite  as 
important." 

"  That 's  true,"  said  Falou,  "  and  we  put  your  name  in 
the  order  of  the  day.  I  was  wrong  to  say  you  were  too 
young,  general  ;  I  admit  that,  and  I  beg  your  pardon.  But 
I  have  a  right  to  say  you  were  not  there  because  you  have 
just  admitted  you  were  at  Toulon." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Bonaparte.  "  Have  you  anything  else  to 
say  ?  " 

**  Yes,  general,"  replied  Falou. 

"Then,  say  it,"  continued  Bonaparte.  "But,  as  we  are 
all  republicans  here,  have  the  goodness  to  address  me  as 
citizen  general." 

"  Bravo,  citizen  general  !  "  struck  in  Faraud. 

Citizens  Vincent  and  Groseiller,  Faraud's  seconds,  nodded 
their  heads  in  sign  of  approval,  but  Falou's  seconds  con- 
tinued immovable,  giving  no  signs  either  way  of  approval 
or  disapproval.  ■ 

"  Well,  then,  citizen  general,"  resumed  Falou,  with  that 
freedom  of  speech  which  the  principle  of  equality  had 
introduced  into  the  ranks  of  the  army,  "if  you  had  been 
at  Dawendorff,  for  instance,  you  'd  have  seen  that  I  saved 
the  life  of  General  Abattucci  in  a  charge  of  cavalry,  —  and 
it  was  n't  a  bad  one  to  save,  either." 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  said  Bonaparte  ;  "  then  I  thank  you  ;  Abattucci 
is  a  sort  of  a  cousin  of  mine." 

Falou  draw  out  his  cavalry  sabre  and  showed  it  to  Bona- 


114  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

parte,  who  was  certainly  not  a  little  surprised  to  see  a 
general's  sabre  iu  the  hands  of  a  sergeant. 

"  It  was  on  that  occasion,"  he  continued,  "  that  General 
Pichegru,  who  is  as  good  a  general  as  any  man,"  —  and  he 
emphasized  this  appreciation  of  Pichegru,  —  ''  seeing  what 
a  plight  my  sabre  was  in  from  the  force  of  my  blows,  gave 
me  his,  which  is  n't  the  regular  trooper  thing,  as  you  may 
see  for  yourself,  general." 

"  Again  !  "  said  Bonaparte,  frowning. 

"  Beg  pardon  !  citizen  general,  I  meant  to  say  ;  but,  you 
see.  General  Moreau,  he  has  n't  accustomed  us  to  that  kind 
of  thing." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Bonaparte,  "  is  n't  the  republican  Fabius 
more  careful  than,  that  ?  Go  on  ;  I  see  you  have  something 
else  to  say." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  tell  you,  citizen  general,  that  if  you  had 
been  at  Frœschwillers  the  day  General  Hoche  —  who  him- 
self is  as  good  as  any  man  —  put  up  the  Prussian  cannon  at 
six  hundred  francs  apiece,  you  'd  have  seen  that  I  took  one 
of  those  cannon  myself,  and  that 's  when  they  made  me  a 
cavalry-sergeant." 

"And  you  got  the  six  hundred  francs  to  boot?" 

Falou  shook  his  head. 

a  ^^Q  gave  the  money  to  the  widows  of  the  brave  men 
who  were  killed  at  Dawendorff,  and  I  only  had  my  pay  — 
out  of  the  waggon  of  the  Prince  de  Condé." 

"  Brave  and  disinterested  !  Go  on,"  said  the  general. 
"  I  like  to  hear  men  like  you  who  have  no  newspapers  to 
sing  their  praises  — or  calumniate  them  —  make  their  own 
panegyric." 

"  And  lastly,"  pursued  Falou,  "  if  you  had  been  at  the 
re-taking  of  the  lines  of  Weissembourg  you  'd  know  that, 
attacked  by  four  Prussians,  I  killed  tw^o  ;  it  is  true  that 
with  the  third  I  was  a  little  late  with  my  parry,  and  that 's 
the  scar  I  got  for  it,  general,  — I  mean  citizen  general,  —  but 
'  got  in  my  tac  on  time  and  sent  the  third  man  after  his 
imrades.     Then  they  made  me  first  cavalry-sergeant." 


CITIZENS    AND    MESSIEURS.  115 

"  And  that 's  all  true,  is  it  ?  "  said  Bonaparte. 

"  Oh  !  as  for  its  truth,  citizen  general/'  said  Faraud, 
stepping  up  and  carrying  his  hand  adorned  with  a  bandage 
to  his  right  eyebrow,  ''I  am  witness  that  the  cavalry- 
sergeant  has  told  nothing  but  the  truth;  in  fact  he  has 
stopped  short  of  it  instead  of  going  beyond  it.  He  is  well- 
known  in  the  Army  of  the  Rhine." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Bonaparte,  looking  with  a  fatherly 
eye  at  the  two  men.  "I  am  very  glad  to  make  your 
acquaintance,  citizen  Falou.  I  hope  you  will  do  as  well  in 
the  Army  of  Italy  as  you  did  in  the  Army  of  the  Rhine. 
But  how  happens  it  that  two  such  brave  men  are  enemies  ?  " 

*'  Enemies  !  we,  citizen  general  ?  "  said  Falou.  "  We  are 
not  enemies." 

"  Then  why  the  devil  are  you  fighting  ?  " 

"Why!"  said  Faraud  with  the  usual  twist  of  his  neck, 
"  we  were  fighting  to  fight." 

"Yes,  but  I  wish  to  know  for  what  reason  you  were 
fighting." 

Faraud  looked  at  Falou  as  if  asking  his  permission  to 
answer. 

"If  the  citizen  general  wants  to  know,"  said  Falou.  "I 
don't  see  any  objection  to  telling  him." 

"  Well,  we  fought  —  we  fought  —  because  —  well,  because 
he  called  me  monsieur." 

"  And  what  do  you  want  to  be  called  ?  " 

"  Why,  citizen,  damn  it  !  "  replied  Faraud  ;  "  that 's  a  title 
that  has  cost  us  dear  enough  to  make  us  hold  on  to  it.  I  'm 
not  an  aristocrat,  like  those  messieurs  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine." 

"There  !  do  you  hear  that,  citizen  general  ?  "  cried  Falou, 
stamping  his  foot  angrily  and  grasping  the  hilt  of  his  sabre. 
"  He  calls  us  aristocrats  !  " 

"  He  is  wrong,  and  you  are  wrong,"  replied  the  commander- 
in-chief.  "  We  are  all  children  of  the  same  family,  sons  of 
the  same  mother,  citizens  of  the  same  country.  We  are 
fighting  for  the  Republic  ;  and  this  is  not  the  time,  when  the 


116  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

kings  of  tlie  earth  are  recognizing  her,  that  brave  men  like 
you  should  repudiate  her.  What  division  do  you  belong 
to  ?  "  he  added,  addressing  Falou. 

'^  Bernadotte's  division." 

"Bernadotte  ?  "  repeated  Bonaparte.  "  A  volunteer  who 
was  only  a  sergeant-major  in  '89  ;  a  brave  man  promoted 
general  on  the  battlefield  by  Kleber  after  the  victories  of 
Fleurus  and  Juliers,  who  obliged  Maestrich  to  capitulate 
and  took  Altdorf,  —  Bernadette  encouraging  aristocracy  in 
his  army  !  I  thought  he  was  a  Jacobin.  And  you,  Faraud, 
what  corps  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"That  of  General  Augereaii.  He  can't  be  accused  of 
aristocracy,  not  he  !  He 's  like  you,  citizen  general  ;  he 
won't  stand  any  nonsense  of  that  kind.  So  we  said  to  each 
other  when  these  fine  gentlemen  of  the  Army  of  the  Ehine 
came  down  and  began  to  call  us  monsiexir :  'For  every 
monsieur  a  sabre-cut.  Agreed?'  —  'Agreed.'  And  since 
then  we  've  been  out  perhaj)s  a  dozen  times,  division  Auge- 
reau  against  division  Bernadette.  This  time  it 's  I  who  pay 
the  piper  j  next  time  — " 

"  There  will  be  no  next  time,"  said  Bonaparte,  imper- 
atively. "  I  will  not  have  duels  in  the  army.  I  have  said 
so,  and  I  repeat  it." 

"But,  nevertheless  —  "  muttered  Faraud. 

"I  shall  speak  to  Bernadette  of  this  affair.  Meantime 
you  will  be  so  good  as  to  keep  intact  the  republican  tradi- 
tion ;  and  in  any  division  under  my  command  you  will  call 
yourselves  citizens.  You  will  each  go  to  the  guard-house 
for  twenty-four  hours  as  a  warning.  And  now  shake  hands, 
and  be  off  with  you,  arm  in  arm  like  good  comrades." 

The  two  men  approached  each  other  and  shook  hands 
loyally.  Then  Faraud  tossed  his  jacket  over  his  left 
shoulder,  and  passed  his  arm  through  Falou's  ;  the  seconds 
did  the  same,  and  all  six  went  off  amicably  to  the  barracks 
through  the  Porta  Orientale. 

Bonaparte  looked  after  them  with  a  smile  muttering  to 
himself  :  — 


CITIZENS   AND   MESSIEURS.  117 

"  Fine  fellows  !  it  was  with  such  men  Caesar  crossed  the 
Rubicon.  But  the  time  has  not  yet  come  to  do  as  Caesar  did. 
Murat  !  "  he  cried. 

A  young  man  twenty-four  years  of  age,  with  black  hair 
and  moustache,  and  a  keen,  intelligent  eye,  made  his  horse 
bound  forward  to  the  general's  side. 

"  Murat,"  said  the  latter,  "  start  at  once  for  Vicenza  where 
Augereau  is,  and  bring  him  to  the  palazzo  Serbelloni.  Tell 
him  that  the  ground-floor  is  unoccupied,  and  he  can  have  it." 

"  The  devil  !  "  muttered  the  staff,  who  had  seen  and  not 
heard  what  had  passed  ;  "  the  general  is  out  of  temper." 


118  THE   FIliST   EEPUBLIC. 


XIV. 


WHY   CITIZEN    GENERAL    BONAPARTE    WAS    OUT   OF 
TEMPER. 

Bonaparte  returned  to  the  palazzo  Serbelloni.     He    was 
undoubtedly  out  of  temper. 

Hardly  was  he  at  the  beginning  of  his  career,  hardly  in 
the  dawn  of  his  fame,  before  calumny  pursued  him,  striving 
to  tear  from  him  the  merit  of  his  great  victories,  which 
could  only  be  compared  with  those  of  Alexander,  Hannibal, 
or  Csesar.  It  was  said  that  Carnot  planned  his  battles, 
and  that  his  so-called  military  genius  followed  step  by  step 
the  written  instructions  of  the  Directory.  It  was  also  said 
that  he  knew  nothing  about  administration  of  the  army 
itself  ;  that  on  Berthier,  his  chief  of  staff,  the  condition  of 
the  troops  depended. 

Bonaparte  knew  of  the  struggle  that  was  now  being 
renewed  in  Paris  against  the  partisans  of  royalty,  repre- 
sented at  this  time  by  the  Clichy  Club  as  it  was  represented 
two  years  earlier  by  the  Section  Le  Peletier.  Private 
letters  from  his  two  brothers  urged  him  to  take  a  middle 
course  between  the  Directors,  who  were  still  the  symbol  of 
the  Republic  (turned  aside,  it  is  true,  from  its  original  end 
and  aim,  but  the  only  banner  under  which  the  Revolution 
could  rally)  and  the  royalists,  —  that  is  to  say,  the  counter- 
revolutionists. 

There  was  evidently  a  strong  ill-will  against  him  in  the 
two  Councils.  The  leaders  were  constantly  wounding  his 
pride  and  self-love  by  their  speeches  and  their  writings. 
They  disparaged  his  fame,   they   depreciated  the  value  of 


CITIZEN   GENERAL   BONAPARTE.  119 

that  noble  army  with  which  he  had  vanquished  five  armies 
of  the  enemy. 

He  had  sought  to  take  part  himself  in  civil  matters, 
and  his  ambition  aimed  at  becoming  a  Director  if  any 
of  the  five  resigned.  Once  in  that  position  he  knew  well 
that  he  should  soon  be  sole  Director  ;  but  his  youth  was 
objected  to  ;  he  was  only  twenty-eight  years  old,  and  the 
law  required  a  Director  to  be  thirty.  On  that  he  with- 
drew from  the  contest,  not  venturing  to  violate  that  article 
of  a  constitution  which  he  had  fought  to  maintain  on  the 
thirteenth  Vendémiaire.  Besides,  the  Directors  were  very 
far  from  desiring  him  as  a  colleague.  The  members  did 
not  disguise  their  jealousy  of  Bonaparte's  genius,  and  they 
openly  showed  that  they  felt  themselves  wounded  and 
insulted  by  the  haughty  tone  and  the  affected  independence 
he  assumed  toward  them. 

He,  on  the  other  hand,  was  annoyed  that  he  was  con^ 
stantly  represented  as  a  furious  demagogue,  and  called 
"the  man  of  the  thirteenth  Vendémiaire;  "  whereas  on  the 
thirteenth  Vendémiaire  he  was  really  the  man  of  the 
Revolution,  —  that  is,  the  upholder  of  the  nation's  welfare. 
Moreover,  with  all  these  causes  of  dissatisfaction,  there  was 
still  another  rankling  in  his  mind.  He  was  tired  of  hear- 
ing the  word  "  wise,"  applied  to  Moreau's  style  of  making 
war. 

His  instinct  led  him,  if  not  toward  the  Eevolution,  cer- 
tainly against  the  royalists.  He  therefore  saw  with  pleasure, 
and  encouraged,  the  republican  temper  of  the  army.  His 
first  successes  before  Toulon  had  been  against  the  royalists, 
and  it  was  against  the  royalists  that  he  won  his  victory  in 
Vendémiaire.  These  five  armies  that  he  had  just  van- 
quished, what  were  they  but  supporters  of  the  Bourbons,  — 
that  is  to  say,  of  the  royalists  ? 

But  the  feeling  that  underlay  all  others  at  this  period  of 
his  life,  when  he  may  perhaps  have  floated  between  the 
part  of  Monk  and  that  of  Caesar,  the  motive  that  caused 
him  to  bear  aloft  the  republican  banner  and  led  him  to 


120  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

turn  a  deaf  ear  to  all  propositions  that  were  made  to  him, 
was  the  inward  presentiment  of  his  coming  greatness,  and 
above  all,  that  pride  which  he  shared  with  Caesar,  the  pride 
that  would  rather  be  first  in  a  village  than  second  in  Rome. 
Whatever  rank  he  obtained  from  a  king,  were  it  even  that 
of  Constable  (which  was  offered  to  him),  that  king  would 
still  be  above  him  and  overshadow  him.  Rising  by  the 
help  of  a  king  he  would  never  be  anything  but  a  parvenu  ; 
rising  alone,  by  his  own  power,  he  was  not  made,  he 
made  himself. 

Under  the  Republic,  on  the  contrary,  his  head  already 
overtopped  that  of  others  ;  he  was  sure  to  rise,  and  always 
rise.  Perhaps  his  glance,  piercing  as  it  was,  had  not 
yet  seen  an  empire  on  the  horizon  ;  but  he  did  foresee, 
under  the  Republic,  audacity  of  action  and  splendid  enter- 
prises which  suited  the  audacity  of  his  genius  and  his  vast 
ambition. 

As  often  happens  among  predestined  beings,  who  at 
times  do  things  impossible, —  not  because  they  were  predes- 
tined to  do  them,  but  because  it  has  been  foretold  to  them 
that  they  will  do  them  and  thenceforth  they  regard  them- 
selves as  the  chosen  of  Providence,  —  the  slightest  event 
occurring  on  a  special  day  often  caused  some  great  deter- 
mination in  Bonaparte's  mind.  The  duel  he  had  just 
witnessed,  this  flimsy  quarrel  of  two  soldiers  over  the 
words  "citizens,"  and  " messieurs,"  had  spread  before  his 
eyes  the  whole  question  which  was  agitating  France. 
When  Faraud  mentioned  General  Augereau  Bonaparte 
remembered  (what  indeed  he  had  long  known)  that  general's 
inflexible  adherence  to  the  principles  of  democracy,  and 
he  believed  him  to  be  the  agent  he  was  in  search  of  to  second 
his  secret  plans. 

More  than  once  had  Bonaparte's  eyes  been  turned  to  a 
possible  crisis,  when  a  Parisian  revolution  might  over- 
throw the  Directory  or  oppress  it,  as  the  Convention  had 
been  oppressed  by  the  counter-revolution.  If  that  crisis 
came    Bonaparte   was   firmly    resolved   to   cross   the   Alps 


CITIZEN   GENERAL   BONAPARTE.  121 

with  twenty-five  thousand  men  and  march  by  Lyon  upon 
Paris.  Carnot's  big  nostrils  had  no  doubt  scented  that 
design,  for  he  had  lately  written  :  "  Here  they  attribute  a 
thousand  schemes  to  you,  each  one  more  absurd  than  the 
rest.  They  seem  unable  to  believe  that  a  man  who  has 
done  such  great  things  will  be  content  to  live  as  a  simple 
citizen." 

The  Directory,  as  a  body,  wrote  thus  to  Bonaparte  :  — 

We  have  seen,  citizen  general,  with  much  satisfaction,  the  assui'- 
ances  of  your  continued  attachment  to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  the 
constitution  of  the  year  III.  You  can  count  on  our  entire  co-opera- 
tion. We  accept  with  pleasure  all  the  offers  which  you  make  us  to 
come  at  our  first  call  to  the  help  of  the  Republic.  They  are  but 
another  proof  of  your  sincere  love  of  country.  You  may  be  sure  we 
shall  only  avail  ourselves  of  them  for  the  safety,  happiness,  and  glory 
of  the  nation. 

This  letter  was  in  the  handwriting  of  La  Revellière- 
Lepeaux,  and  was  signed,  "  Barras,"  "  Rewbell,"  and  "  La 
Eevellière-Lepeaux."  The  two  other  Directors,  Carnot  and 
Barthélémy,  either  did  noi  see  the  letter  or  refused  to  sign  it. 

But  chance  willed  ';hat  Bonaparte  should  be  better  in- 
formed about  the  situation  of  the  Directors  than  the 
Directors  themselves.  It  happened  that  a  certain  Comte 
Delaunay  d'Entraigues,  a  royalist  agent,  well  known  during 
the  French  Revolution,  was  in  Venice  when  that  city  was 
blockaded  by  the  French.  He  was  looked  upon  at  that  time 
as  being  both  the  contriver  and  the  performer  in  the  machi- 
nations which  were  going  on  against  France,  and  especially 
against  the  Army  of  Italy.  He  was  a  man  of  keen  percep- 
tions ;  he  saw  the  danger  of  the  Venetian  Republic  and  tried 
to  get  away.  But  the  French  troops  occupied  every  foot 
of  the  main  land,  and  he  was  captured,  with  all  his  papers. 
Taken  before  Bonaparte,  the  general  treated  him  with  his 
usual  indulgence  for  émigrés.  He  returned  all  his  papers 
but  three,  and  gave  him  the  city  of  Milan  for  a  prison  on 
parole.    One  fine  morning  it  appeared  that  Comte  Delaunay 


122  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

d'Entraigues,  abusing  the  confidence  placed  in  him,  had  left 
Milan  and  fled  to  Switzerland. 

One  of  the  three  papers  which  thus  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Bonaparte  was,  under  existing  circumstances,  of  the 
utmost  importance.  It  was  a  careful  statement  of  all  that 
had  passed  between  Fauche-Borel  and  Pichegru,  after  the 
interview  which  wo  related  in  a  former  volume  as  having 
taken  place  at  Dawendortf  when  Fauche-Borel  presented 
himself  to  Pichegru  as  a  commercial  traveller  in  wines. 

It  was  the  famous  Comte  de  Mont-Gaillard  who  had  been 
entrusted  with  the  subsequent  attempts  of  the  Prince  de 
Condé  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  Pichegru;  and 
this  memorandum  which  now  reached  Bonaparte  was 
written  by  d'Entraigues  at  the  dictation  of  Mont-Gaillard 
himself,  and  contained  the  whole  series  of  offers  made  by 
the  Prince  de  Condé  to  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army 
of  the  Rhine. 

The  Prince  de  Condé,  invested  with  all  the  powers  of 
Louis  XVIII.,  except  that  of  granting  the  order  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  offered  Pichegru,  if  he  would  surrender 
the  town  of  Huningue  and  return  to  France  at  the  head 
of  the  Austrians  and  émigrés,  to  i^ake  him  marshal  of 
France  and  governor  of  Alsace  ;  also  to  give  him  :  — 

1st,  The  order  of  St  Louis. 

2d,  The  château  of  Cbambord,  with  its  park  and  ten 
pieces  of  cannon  taken  from  the  Austrians. 

3d,  A  million  of  francs  in  specie. 

4th,  Two  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year,  of  which  one 
hundred  thousand  should  revert  to  his  widow  if  he  left  one, 
and  fifty  thousand  to  his  children. 

5th,  A  mansion  in  Paris. 

6th,  And  lastly,  the  town  of  Arbois,  Pichegru's  birthplace, 
was  to  bear  his  name  and  be  exempt  from  all  taxes  for 
twenty-five  years. 

Pichegru  sharply  refused  to  surrender  Huningue. 

"  I  will  enter  into  no  plot,"  he  said.  '"  I  will  not  be  the 
third  volume  of  La  Fayette  and  Dumouriez.     My  plans  are 


CITIZEN   GENERAL   BONAPARTE.  123 

as  sure  as  they  are  vast  ;  tliey  have  their  roots,  not  only 
in  my  own  army,  but  in  Paris,  in  the  departments,  among 
ray  colleagues  the  generals,  who  think  as  I  do.  I  ask 
nothing  for  myself.  When  I  have  succeeded,  they  may  do 
what  they  like  for  me.  I  am  not  an  ambitious  man  ;  on 
that  point  every  one  may  feel  easy.  But,  if  my  soldiers 
are  to  shout  for  the  king,  I  demand  for  them  a  glass 
of  wine  in  one  hand  and  six  francs  in  the  other.  I  shall 
then  recross  the  llhine,  enter  France  with  the  white  flag, 
march  on  Paris,  and  overthrow,  on  behalf  of  his  Majesty 
Louis  XVIII.  the  existing  government,  whatever  it  may 
then  be.  But  I  insist  that  my  soldiers  shall  have  their  pay 
and  their  daily  rations  secured  to  them  until  I  have  made 
at  least  five  days'  march  into  France.  They  will  trust  me 
for  the  rest." 

The  negotiation  fell  through  by  reason  of  Conde's  obsti- 
nacy ;  he  insisted  that  Pichegru  should  proclaim  the  king- 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine,  and  surrender  the  town  of 
Huningue. 

Though  this  document  had  been  for  some  time  in  Bona- 
parte's possession,  he  had  refrained  from  using  it.  He 
shrank  from  exposing  the  treachery  of  a  general  like 
Pichegru,  whose  military  talent  he  admired,  and  who  had 
been  his  professor  at  Brienne.  But  he  had,  none  the  less, 
taken  into  his  calculations  what  Pichegru,  now  a  member 
of  the  Council  of  the  Ancients  might  do  ;  and  it  so  chanced 
that  on  this  very  morning,  as  he  was  starting  to  make  a 
reoonnoissance  in  the  neighborhood  of  Milan,  a  letter  had 
reached  him  from  his  brother  Joseph  announcing  that 
Pichegru  had  not  only  been  appointed  to  the  Council  of 
the  Five  Hundred,  but  was  also  elected  its  president. 

Pichegru  was  thus  doubly  armed,  —  by  his  present  civil 
influence,  and  his  former  popularity  with  his  soldiers. 

Hence  the  rapid  decision  which  Bonaparte  made  to  send 
for  Augereau,  moved  by  the  trifling  matter  of  the  duel  he 
had  witnessed  and  the  reason  given  for  it.  Little  did  the 
two   combatants   imagine   that   they   had  just    powerfully 


124  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

contributed  to  make  Augereau  a  marshal  of  France,  Murat 
a  king,  and  Bonaparte  an  emperor. 

And,  in  good  truth,  nothing  of  all  that  would  have 
happened  if  the  18th  Fructidor  had  not,  like  the  13th 
Vendémiaire,  annihilated  the  hopes  and  plans  of  the 
royalists. 


AUGEREAU.  125 


CHAPTER  XV. 


AUGEREAU. 


On  the  morrow,  as  Bonaparte  was  dictatiug  his  correspon- 
dence to  Bourrienne,  Marmont,  one  of  his  favorite  aides- 
de-camp,  who  was  looking  out  of  the  window,  exclaimed 
suddenly  that  he  saw  at  tlie  end  of  the  street  the  floating 
plumes  of  Murat,  and  the  rather  massive  torso  of  Augereau. 

Murat  was  then,  as  we  have  said,  a  handsome  young  man 
about  twenty-four  years  of  age.  He  was  the  son  of  an  inn- 
keeper at  Labastide,  near  Cahors,  and  as  his  father  was  also 
post-master  on  that  road,  Murat  when  a  boy  was  familiar 
with  horses,  and  became  in  time  an  admirable  rider.  By 
some  caprice  of  his  father,  who  may  have  wished  for  a 
bishop  in  his  family,  the  boy  was  sent  to  a  seminary,  where, 
if  we  are  to  believe  the  evidence  of  his  letters  which  we 
happen  to  have  at  hand,  his  studies  did  not  go  as  far  as 
an  accurate  knowledge  of  spelling. 

Happily  or  unhappily  for  him,  the  Revolution  die  «way 
with  the  seminaries.  Young  Joachim  spread  his  wings 
and  alighted  in  the  Constitutional  guard  of  Louis  XVI., 
where  he  made  himself  remarked  by  his  lofty  opinions,  his 
duels,  and  his  courage.  Retired  from  active  service,  like 
Bonaparte  himself,  by  that  same  Aubry  who  attempted  to 
carry  on  a  rude  warfare  with  untrained  patriots,  he  met 
Bonaparte,  became  intimate  with  him,  hastened  to  place 
himself  at  his  orders  on  the  13th  Vendémiaire,  and  had  now 
followed  him  to  Italy  as  an  aide-de-camp. 

Augereau,  whom  we  remember  at  Strasbourg  giving 
fencing-lessons  to  our  young  friend  Eugène  de  Beauharnais, 
was  seventeen  years  older  than  Murat,  in  fact  in  his  fortieth 


126  THE    FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

year.  After  languishing  for  fifteen  years  in  the  lower  ranks 
of  the  army,  he  was  transferred  from  the  Army  of  the  Rhine 
to  that  of  the  Pyrenees,  then  commanded  by  Dugommier. 
Here  it  was  that  he  obtained  the  successive  grades  of  lieu- 
tenant-colonel, colonel,  and  brigadier-general,  in  which 
latter  capacity  he  defeated  the  Spaniards  in  so  brilliant  a 
manner  on  the  banks  of  the  Fluvia  that  his  victory  imme- 
diately won  him  the  rank  of  general  of  division. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  peace  with  Spain,  and  mentioned 
the  advantages  of  that  peace  which  gave  us,  if  not  an  ally, 
at  least  a  neutral  sovereign,  in  the  person  of  the  nearest 
relation  of  Louis  XVI.,  whose  head  the  Convention  had  just 
cut  off.  When  this  peace  was  signed  Augereau  passed  to 
the  Army  of  Italy,  under  Scherer's  command,  and  contrib- 
uted not  a  little  to  the  victory  of  Loano.  After  that  came 
Bonaparte's  immortal  campaign  of  '96. 

Like  all  the  old  generals,  Augereau  had  seen  with  regret, 
and  even  with  contempt,  the  appointment  of  a  young  man 
of  twenty-five  to  the  command  of  the  most  important  army 
of  France.  But  he  had  no  sooner  made  a  march  under  the 
orders  of  the  young  general  ;  no  sooner  contributed  his 
share  to  the  taking  of  the  gorges  of  Millesimo  ;  no  sooner 
beaten  the  Austrians  at  Dego,  as  the  result  of  a  plan  given 
to  him  by  his  young  general  ;  and  no  sooner  taken,  without 
knowing  why,  the  redoubt  of  Montellesimo,  —  than  he  com- 
prehended the  genius  that  ordered  those  manoeuvres,  which, 
by  separating  the  Sardinias  from  the  Austrian  forces,  ren- 
dered certain  the  success  of  the  campaign. 

After  that  he  went  straight  to  Bonaparte,  told  him 
frankly  of  his  repugnance,  made  honorable  amends,  and 
then,  always  ambitious,  though  fully  aware  of  his  defects  of 
education,  he  begged  Bonaparte  to  give  him  a  share  in  the 
rewards  he  distributed  to  his  lieutenants.  The  request  was 
the  easier  to  grant,  because  on  the  next  day  after  this  inter- 
view Augereau  carried  the  enemy's  entrenched  camp  at  Ceva, 
and  penetrated  into  Alba  and  Casale.  Finally,  meeting  the 
enemy  at  the  bridge   of  Lodi,  bristling  with  cannon  and 


AUGEREAU.  127 

defended  by  a  murderous  fire,  he  rushed  upon  the  bridge 
at  the  head  of  his  grenadiers,  made  thousands  of  prisoners, 
defeated  all  the  troops  he  met,  relieved  Massena  from  an 
awkward  position,  and  took  Castiglione,  of  which  he  was 
eventually  made  the  duke.  The  famous  day  of  Areola 
came  next,  the  day  that  crowned  so  gloriously  for  Augereau 
a  campaign  he  had  illuminated  with  his  courage.  There,  as 
at  Lodi,  a  bridge  had  to  be  crossed.  Three  times  he  led  his 
soldiers  to  the  middle  of  it  ;  three  times  they  were  repulsed 
with  cannister.  The  last  time,  seeing  his  standard-bearer 
among  the  dead,  he  seized  the  flag  and,  head  down,  not 
looking  to  see  if  he  were  followed  or  not,  he  dashed  upon 
the  bridge  and  found  himself  among  the  cannon  and  the 
bayonets  of  the  enemy.  But  this  time  his  soldiers,  who 
adored  him,  followed  him  ;  the  cannon  were  taken,  and 
turned  against  the  enemy. 

This  victory,  one  of  the  most  glorious  of  the  whole  cam- 
paign, was  so  well  recognized  as  being  due  to  his  courage 
that  the  government  gave  him  the  flag  he  had  used  to  lead 
on  his  men. 

He,  too,  had  reflected,  like  Bonaparte,  that  he  owed  all 
to  the  Republic,  and  that  the  Republic  alone  could  give  him 
the  future  his  ambition  coveted.  He  knew  well  that  under 
a  king  he  could  never  have  been  anything  but  a  sergeant. 
The  son  of  a  journeyman  mason  and  a  fruit-girl,  a  private 
soldier  and  fencing-master  in  his  early  days,  he  was  now  a 
general  of  division,  and,  thanks  to  his  own  merit  and  cour- 
age, he  might,  if  occasion  offered,  become  a  commander-in- 
chief  like  Bonaparte,  whose  genius  he  had  not,  like  Hoche, 
whose  honesty  he  had  not,  like  Moreau,  whose  knowledge 
he  had  not. 

Augereau  had  just  given  a  proof  of  his  native  greed, 
which  had  created  some  prejudice  against  him  among  those 
pure  republicans  who  sent  their  golden  epaulets  to  the 
Republic  when  she  was  lacking  money,  and  wore  worsted 
ones  in  their  stead.  Augereau  had  given  his  men  three 
hours    in  which  to  pillage  the  town  of  Lago,  which  h^à 


128  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

revolted.  He  did  not  himself  pillage,  it  is  true,  but  he 
bought  of  his  soldiers  for  almost  nothing  the  valuable  arti- 
cles they  had  seized.  He  took  with  him  everywhere  a  van 
which  contained,  it  was  said,  treasures  to  the  amount  of  a 
million  of  francs.  "  Augereau's  van  "  was  known  to  the 
whole  array. 

Notified  by  Marmont,  Bonaparte  now  awaited  him.  Murat 
entered  first  and  announced  Augereau.  Bonaparte  thanked 
Murat,  and  made  a  sign  to  him  and  to  Marmont  to  leave  the 
room.  Bourrienne  rose  to  go,  but  with  a  gesture  of  the 
hand  Bonaparte  signed  to  him  to  keep  his  seat. 

Augereau  entered.  Bonaparte  shook  hands  with  him 
and  offered  him  a  chair.  Augereau  sat  down,  put  his  sabre 
between  his  legs,  his  hat  on  his  sabre,  and  his  arms  on  his 
hat,  and  said  :  — 

"  Well,  general,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"This,"  replied  Bonaparte.  "I  wish  to  thank  you  for 
the  proper  spirit  I  find  among  your  men.  Yesterday  I 
came  upon  a  duel  which  one  of  them  was  fighting  because 
a  soldier  in  Moreau's  division  called  him  '  monsieur.'  " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  "  laughed  Augereau  ;  "  the  fact  is  that  some 
of  my  fellows  won't  stand  that.  It  is  not  the  first  time  by 
a  long  shot  that  they  have  fought  duels  for  some  such 
reason.  In  fact,  this  very  morning  before  leaving  Vicenza 
I  was  obliged  to  issue  an  order  of  the  day  stating  that  any 
individual  of  my  division  who  used,  verbally  or  in  writing, 
the  word  monsieur,  would  be  deprived  of  his  rank  and 
declared  unfit  to  serve  in  the  armies  of  the  Republic." 

"  Having  taken  that  precaution,"  said  Bonaparte,  looking 
fixedly  at  Augereau,  '•  you  might,  without  risk,  leave  your 
division  for  a  month  or  two  ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  said  Augereau.  "  And  why  should  I  leave 
my  division  ?  " 

"Because  you  have  asked  me  for  a  furlough  to  go  to 
Paris  and  attend  to  your  personal  affairs." 

"  And  for  some  interest  of  yours,  too,  I  suppose  ?  "  said 
Augereau. 


AUGEREAU.  129 

"I  thought,"  said  Bonaparte,  rather  dryly,  "that  you 
regarded  our  interests,  yours  and  mine,  as  one." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Augereau,  hastily  ;  "  so  I  do  ;  and  you 
ought  to  be  glad  that  I  am  modest  enough  to  be  contented 
with  the  second  place." 

"  You  have  it  in  the  Army  of  Italy,  have  n't  you  ?  " 
demanded  Bonaparte. 

"Yes,  but  here  1  have  niade  it  for  myself,  and  the  oppor- 
tunity may  not  be  so  favorable  hereafter." 

"  Therefore  you  see,"  replied  Bonaparte,  "  that  as  occa- 
sions to  be  useful  are  certainly  coming  to  an  end  in  Italy, 
I  have  found  you  another  opportunity  to  do  a  service  to 
France." 

"  Well,  tell  me  what  it  is,  —  something  in  support  of  the 
Republic,  I  hope." 

"  Yes  ;  unfortunately  the  Republic  is  badly  managed,  but 
in  spite  of  all,  the  Republic  lives." 

"  And  the  Directory  ?  "  asked  Augereau. 

"  That  is  divided,"  replied  Bonaparte.  "  Carnot  and 
Barthélémy  lean  to  the  side  of  royalty,  and,  it  must  be 
owned,  they  have  a  majority  of  both  Councils  with  them. 
But  Barras,  Rewbell,  and  La  Revellière-Lepeaux  are  firm 
for  the  Republic  and  the  constitution  of  the  year  III.,  and 
we  are  behind  them." 

"I  thought,"  said  Augereau,  "that  they  had  flung  them- 
selves into  the  arms  of  Hoche." 

"  Yes,  but  they  must  n't  be  left  there  ;  there  ought  to  be 
no  arm  in  the  army  longer  than  ours,  and  our  arms  must 
stretch  beyond  the  Alps  and  make,  if  need  be,  another  13th 
Vendémiaire." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  yourself  ?  "  asked  Augereau. 

"  Because  if  I  went  myself,  it  would  be  to  overthrow  the 
Directory,  not  to  support  it,  and  I  have  not  yet  done  enough 
to  play  the  part  of  Csesar." 

"  And  you  are  sending  me  to  play  that  of  your  lieutenant  ? 
So  be  it  ;  I  am  content.     What  is  there  to  do  ?  " 

"  A  good  deal.     Kill  all  the  enemies  of  France  who  were 

TOL.  II. — 9 


130  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

only  scotcLed  in  Vendémiaire.  As  long  as  Barras  marches 
toward  a  republican  aim,  second  him  with  all  your  strength 
and  with  all  your  courage  ;  if  he  hesitates,  resist  him  ;  if 
he  plays  traitor,  take  him  by  the  collar  as  you  would  a 
criminal.  If  you  have  to  succumb,  it  will  take  me  eight 
days  to  get  to  Paris  with  twenty-five  thousand  men." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Augereau.  "  I  '11  try  not  to  succumb. 
When  shall  1  start  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  written  a  letter  for  you  to  take  to 
Barras."     Then  turning  to  Bourrienne,  "  Write,"  he  said. 

Bourrienne  had  his  pen  and  paper  ready.  Bonaparte 
dictated  ;  — 

Citizen  Director,  —  I  send  you  Augereau,  my  right  arm.  For 
every  one  but  you  he  goes  to  Paris  on  furlough,  having  urgent  private 
business  to  attend  to.  For  you,  he  is  the  director  who  will  march  our 
way.  He  brings  you  his  sword,  and  is  charged  by  me  to  tell  you 
that,  in  case  of  need,  you  can  draw  upon  the  funds  in  Italy  for  two 
or  even  three  million. 

Money  is  the  sinew  of  war,  especially  civil  war. 

I  hope  to   hear  within  eight  days  that  the  Councils  have  been 
reformed,  and  that  the  club  in  the  rue  de  Clichy  no  longer  exists. 
Salutations  and  Fraternity. 

Bonaparte. 

P.  S.  What  are  these  tales  I  hear  of  the  robbery  of  diligences 
and  the  presence  of  Chouans  at  the  South,  under  the  name  of  the 
Company  of  Jehu  ?  Catch  three  or  four  of  the  fellows  and  make  an 
example  of  them.  B. 

Bonaparte,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  read  the  letter 
himself,  and  signed  it  with  a  new  pen,  which,  however,  did 
not  make  his  writing  a  whit  more  legible.  Then  Bourrienne 
sealed  the  letter  and  gave  it  to  Augereau. 

"  Give  Augereau  twenty-five  thousand  francs  out  of  my 
account,  Bourrienne,"  said  Bonaparte.  Then  he  added  to 
Augereau,  "  When  you  get  short  of  money,  general,  let  me 
know." 


THE   CITIZEN   DIEECTORS.  131 


XVI. 


THE   CITIZEN    DIRECTORS. 


It  was  high  time  for  the  citizen  General  Bonaparte  to  turn 
his  eyes  toward  the  citizen  Directors.  There  was  open 
war  between  the  five  elect  of  the  Luxembourg. 

Carnot  and  Barthélémy  were  completely  estranged  from 
Barras,  Rewbell,  and  La  E-evellière-Lepeaux.  It  was  very 
apparent  that  the  ministry,  such  as  it  was,  could  not  last 
long;  some  of  the  ministers  were  tools  of  Barras,  Rewbeli, 
and  La  Revellière-Lepeaux,  while  others  were  those  of 
Barthélémy  and  Carnot. 

There  were  seven  ministers  ;  the  minister  of  police. 
Cochon  ;  of  the  interior,  Bénézech  ;  of  the  navy,  Truguet  ; 
foreign  affairs,  Charles  Delacroix  ;  finances,  Ramel  ;  justice, 
Merlin  ;  and  war,  Petiet. 

Cochon,  Pétiet  and  Bénézech  were  tainted  with  royalism  ; 
Truguet  was  haughty,  violent,  and  determined  to  follow  his 
own  ideas  ;  Delacroix  was  not  equal  to  his  position  ;  Ramel 
and  Merlin  alone  were  fit,  in  the  opinion  of  the  majority  of 
the  Directors,  that  is  to  say  Barras,  Rewbell,  and  La  Revel- 
lière-Lepeaux,  to  be  kept  at  their  posts.  The  opposing 
Directors,  on  the  other  hand,  demanded  the  dismissal  of 
Merlin,  Ramel,  Truguet,  and  Delacroix.  Barras  agreed  as 
bo  Truguet  and  Delacroix  ;  but  he  lopped  off  three  others, 
who  were  members  of  the  Five  Hundred  and  whose  dismissal 
would  therefore  cause  great  excitement  in  both  Chambers. 
They  were  Cochon,  Pétiet,  and  Bénézech. 

Our  readers  have  not,  we  hope,  lost  sight  of  the  salon  of 
Madame  de  Staël.  It  was  there,  as  will  be  remembered, 
that  the  future  author  of  Corinne  taught  politics  that  were 


132  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

almost  as  influential  as  those  of  the  Luxembourg  and  the 
rue  de  Clichy.  At  the  present  moment  Madame  de  Staël, 
who  had  made  a  minister  under  the  monarchy,  was  pos- 
sessed by  the  desire  of  making  one  under  the  Directory. 

The  life  of  the  man  whom  she  now  brought  forward  was 
full  of  agitations  and  strange  vicissitudes.  He  was  forty- 
three  years  old,  belonged  to  one  of  the  greatest  families  of 
France,  was  born  lame,  like  Mephistopheles,  with  whom  he 
had  some  strong  resemblance  both  of  body  and  mind,  — 
a  resemblance  which  became  the  more  apparent  when  he 
found  his  Faust. 

Entering  the  Church  on  account  of  his  lameness  (although 
he  was  the  eldest  of  his  family),  he  got  himself  made  bishop 
of  Autun  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five.  About  that  time 
the  Eevolution  began.  The  bishop  adopted  all  its  princi- 
ples, was  elected  member  of  the  Constituent  assembly, 
instigated  the  abolition  of  ecclesiastical  tithes,  celebrat-ed 
mass  on  the  Champs  de  Mars  on  the  day  of  the  Federa- 
tion, blessed  the  flags,  approved  of  the  new  constitution  of 
the  clergy,  and  consecrated  the  priests  who  took  the  oaths, 
—  for  which  he  was  excommunicated  by  Pius  VI. 

Sent  to  London  by  Louis  XVI.  to  assist  our  ambassador, 
M.  de  Chauvelin,  he  received  his  passports  from  the  court  of 
St.  James  at  the  very  moment  when  he  received  from  Paris 
the  news  that  he  was  denounced  by  Robespierre.  This 
double  proscription  proved  a  great  piece  of  luck  for  him. 
He  was  ruined;  he  went  to  America,  made  his  fortune  in 
business,  and,  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  now  speaking, 
had  been  in  France  about  three  months. 

His  name  was  Charles-Maurice  de  Talleyrand-Périgord. 

Madame  de  Staël,  a  woman  of  great  intellect,  was  strongly 
attracted  by  this  man's  fascinating  mind.  She  saw  its  depth 
beneath  the  frivolity  of  his  manner.  She  introduced  him 
to  Benjamin  Constant,  then  her  cavalière  servente,  and 
Benjamin  Constant  made  him  known  to  Barras.  Barras 
was  enchanted  with  him,  and  presented  him  to  Rewbell  and 
La  Revellière.    He  won  those  men  as  he  won  all  the  world, 


THE   CITIZEN   DIRECTORS.  133 

and  they  arranged  to  make  him  minister  of  foreign  affairs 
as  soon  as  they  could  dismiss  Bénézech. 

A  council  of  the  five  Directors  was  called  to  elect  the 
members  of  a  new  ministry  to  replace  those  who  were 
going  out.  Carnot  and  Barthélémy  were  not  aware  that 
their  three  colleagues  had  agreed  upon  a  plan,  and  they 
thought  themselves  equal  to  a  struggle.  They  knew  better 
when  they  found  three  votes  uniting  for  the  dismissal  of 
certain  ministers,  the  retention  of  others,  and  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  new  men. 

Cochon,  Pétiet  and  Bénézech  were  dismissed,  Merlin  and 
Ramel  retained.  M.  de  Talleyrand  was  made  minister  of 
foreign  affairs,  Pléville-Lepeley  of  the  navy,  François  de 
Neufchâteau  of  the  interior,  and  Lenoir-Laroche  of  the 
police.  Hoche  was  named  for  the  ministry  of  war  ;  but  he 
was  only  twenty-eight  years  old,  and  the  constitution 
required  a  minister  of  war  to  be  thirty.  It  was  this  pro- 
posed nomination  which  made  Bonaparte  uneasy  at  his 
headquarters  in  Milan. 

The  council  ended  in  a  violent  altercation  between  Barras 
and  Carnot.  Carnot  reproached  Barras  for  his  luxury  and 
his  dissolute  habits.  Barras  reproached  Carnot  for  his 
relations  with  royalism.  Reproaches  led  to  insults  of  the 
grossest  kind. 

''  You  are  a  vile  scoundrel,''  said  Barras  to  Carnot.  "  You 
have  sold  the  Republic,  and  you  want  to  strangle  those  who 
defend  her.  Infamous  brigand  !  "  he  cried  out,  rising  and 
shaking  his  fist  at  Carnot  ;  "  there  is  not  a  citizen  in  France 
who  has  not  a  right  to  spit  in  your  face." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Carnot,  "  between  now  and  to-morrow 
I  will  make  answer  to  your  provocations." 

The  next  day  passed,  and  Barras  received  no  message 
from  Carnot.     The  affair  blew  over. 

The  appointment  of  the  new  ministry,  in  which  the  two 
Councils  had  not  been  consulted,  made  a  great  disturbance 
among  the  members.  They  at  once  resolved  to  organize  a 
resistance. 


134  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

One  of  the  great  advantages  of  counter-revolutions  is 
that  they  furnish  historians  with  documents  which  the 
latter  could  not  obtain  without  them.  When  the  Bourbons 
returned  in  1814  every  man  tried  to  prove  that  he  had 
conspired  against  the  Revolution  or  the  Empire,  or  both  ; 
that  is  to  say,  had  betrayed  the  country.  The  object  being 
to  obtain  the  reward  of  treachery,  documents  were  pre- 
served, and  it  is  through  tbem  that  history  discovers  and 
confirms  the  conspiracies  which  cast  Louis  XVI.  from  his 
throne,  —  conspiracies  which  were  never  fully  understood 
under  the  Republic  or  during  the  Empire,  for  the  reason 
that  the  proofs  were  unattainable. 

But  in  1814  those  proofs  were  not  lacking.  Every  man 
held  in  his  right  hand  the  evidence  of  his  treachery,  and 
stretched  out  his  left  to  ask  for  pay.  It  is,  therefore,  to 
this  period  of  contempt  for  the  moral  sense,  of  self-denun- 
ciation for  gain,  that  we  must  turn  for  a  knowledge  of  those 
struggles  in  which  the  guilty  were  sometimes  thought  to 
be  victims,  and  the  victims  the  oppressors. 

We  desire  to  remark  here  that  in  the  work  we  are  now 
placing  before  our  readers  we  are  to  be  considered  more  as 
a  romantic  historian  than  an  historical  romance-writer.  We 
think  we  have  shown  proofs  enough  of  imagination  to  be 
allowed  now  to  give  proofs  of  historical  exactness  ;  while 
at  the  same  time  we  keep  in  our  narrative  an  element  of 
poetic  fancy,  which  makes  the  reading  of  history  easier  and 
more  agreeable  than  a  mere  bald  statement  of  facts. 

It  is  therefore  to  one  of  these  counter-revolutionary 
revelations  that  we  shall  have  recourse  to  show  to  what 
an  extent  the  Directory  was  threatened,  and  what  was  the 
urgency  of  the  co^q')  d'État  it  now  resolved  upon. 

We  have  said  that  the  three  Directors  were  inclined  to 
make  Hoche  minister  of  war,  setting  Bonaparte  aside,  and 
that  this  inclination  toward  the  pacificator  of  La  Vendée 
made  the  general-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  Italy  uneasy. 

It  was  Barras  who  communicated  with  Hoche.  Hoche 
was  at  this  time  preparing  for  a  descent  on  Ireland  ;  for 


Portrait  of  Hoche. 


THE   CITIZEN   DIRECTORS.  135 

which  purpose  he  was  about  to  detach  twenty-five  thousand 
men  from  the  Army  of  the  Sambre-et-Meuse  and  despatch 
them  to  Brest.  In  their  march  across  France  these  troops 
could  very  well  rest  a  day  or  two  on  the  heights  near  Paris 
and  be  at  the  call  of  the  Directory.  The  approach  of  this 
array  drove  the  Clichiaus  in  the  Councils  —  that  is,  those  of 
royalist  leanings  —  to  extremities.  The  plan  of  a  National 
Guard  had  been  laid  down  in  the  Constitution.  The 
Clichians,  knowing  that  a  National  Guard  would  be  com- 
posed of  the  same  elements  as  were  the  Sections  formerly, 
began  to  hasten  its  organization. 

Pichegru,  now  president  of  the  Five  Hundred,  promoted 
the  plan  and  presented  a  report  upon  it,  prepared  with  the 
force  which  his  genius  and  his  hatred  combined  gave  to  it. 
Pichegru  was  embittered  against  the  émigrés,  who  had  not 
known  how  to  profit  by  his  devotion  to  the  royal  cause  ;  and 
against  the  republicans  who  had  punished  that  useless 
devotion.  He  was  now  dreaming  of  a  new  revolution,  to  be 
made  by  him  and  on  his  own  account.  At  this  time  his 
reputation  was  equal,  and  justly  so,  to  that  of  his  three 
illustrious  rivals,  Bonaparte,  Moreau,  and  Hoche,  The 
Directory  overthrown,  Pichegru  intended  to  make  himself 
Dictator,  and  once  Dictator  he  would  have  smoothed  the 
way  for  the  return  of  the  Bourbons.  From  them  he  might, 
perhaps,  have  asked  for  no  reward  beyond  a  pension  for  his 
father  and  brother,  a  house  with  a  vast  library  for  himself 
and  Rose. 

The  reader  will  remember  Rose,  the  friend  to  whom  he 
sent  the  fruit  of  his  savings,  an  umbrella,  by  the  hands  of 
little  Charles.  The  same  little  Charles,  who  knew  him 
well,  said  of  him  once  •  — 

"  An  empire  would  have  been  too  small  for  his  genius, 
a  farm  too  large  for  his  phlegmatic  indifference." 

We  cannot  here  explain  the  whole  of  Pichegru's  scheme 
relating  to  the  National  Guard  ;  sufiice  it  to  say,  if  that 
body  had  then  been  organized  it  would  have  been  com- 
pletely under  his  thumb.     In  his  hands  it  would  have  led 


136  THE   FIKST   KEPUBLIC. 

to  another  13th  Vendémiaire,  which,  Bonaparte  being  absent, 
would  assuredly  have  ended  in  the  overthrow  and  destruc- 
tion of  the  Directory. 

A  book  published  by  the  Chevalier  Delarue,  in  1821, 
takes  us  with  him  into  the  club  that  held  its  sessions  in 
the  rue  de  Clichy.  The  house  in  which  it  met  belonged  to 
Gilbert  des  Molières.  It  was  in  this  house  that  the 
*'  Clichians  "  prepared  those  counter-revolutionary  schemes 
which  proved  that  the  18th  Fructidor  was  not,  on  the  part 
of  the  Directory,  a  simple  abuse  of  power  or  a  capricious 
piece  of  cruelty. 

The  Clichians  found  themselves  suddenly  confronted  by 
the  presence  of  troops  from  the  Army  of  the  Sambre-et- 
Meuse,  and  the  new  alliance  between  Hoche  and  Barras. 
They  immediately  assembled  in  their  accustomed  council- 
chamber  and  grouped  themselves  about  Pichegru,  asking 
him  what  his  means  of  resistance  were. 

Surprised,  like  Fompey,  he  had  no  real  means  at  hand  ; 
he  knew  he  must  rely  on  party  passion. 

They  talked  of  the  plans  of  the  Directory,  and  concluded, 
from  the  changes  in  the  ministry  and  the  movement  of 
these  troops,  that  the  Directors  were  preparing  a  blow 
against  the  Legislative  bodies.  The  most  violent  resolu- 
tions were  offered  ;  some  proposed  to  suspend  the  Directory  ; 
others  went  so  far  as  to  demand  that  they  be  dealt  with 
summarily. 

But  for  any  such  result,  forces  were  absolutely  lacking  ; 
all  they  could  muster  were  twelve  hundred  grenadiers  of 
the  guard  of  the  Legislative  bodies,  and  part  of  the  21st 
regiment  under  command  of  Colonel  Malo.  A  desperate 
resolution  was  offered  proposing  to  send  a  squad  of  grena- 
.diers  to  each  arrondissement  in  Paris,  to  rally  all  the 
citizens  who  took  arms  on  the  13th  Vendémiaire. 

This  time  the  Legislative  bodies  held  a  different  position 
from  the  old  Convention  ;  it  was  now  the  Legislative 
bodies,  or  a  portion  of  them,  which  were  rousing  Paris 
against  the  government. 


THE   CITIZEN   DIRECTORS.  137 

Much  was  said,  and  little  was  agreed  upon  ;  which  is 
always  the  case  where  the  weak  discuss  matters.  Pichegru, 
who  was  consulted,  declared  that  it  was  quite  impossible 
to  sustain  a  struggle  with  the  means  at  his  command.  The 
tumult  was  at  its  height  when  a  message  arrived  from  the 
Directory,  giving  notice  of  the  passage  of  the  troops. 

This  message  said  that  part  of  Hoche's  army,  having  to 
march  from  Namur  to  Brest  in  order  to  embark  for  Ireland, 
would  remain  for  a  few  days  on  the  heights  around  Paris. 
Cries  arose  that  the  Convention  of  the  year  III.  forbade  the 
assembling  of  troops  within  a  radius  of  twenty-four  miles 
around  Paris.  The  messenger  from  the  Directory  made  a 
sign  that  he  had  an  answer  ready  for  that  objection. 

"  The  Commissioner  of  war,"  he  said,  '•'  was  ignorant 
of  that  article  of  the  Constitution.  As  soon  as  he  was 
informed  of  it  the  troops  received  orders  to  retire  beyond 
the  prescribed  distance." 

They  had  to  be  content  with  that  explanation  in  default 
of  a  better  ;  but  it  satisfied  no  one,  and  the  feelings  it 
excited  in  the  Clichy  Club  and  the  two  Councils  spread 
from  those  bodies  throughout  Pai'is,  where  every  one  now 
prepared  themselves  for  events  not  less  serious  than  those 
of  the  13th  Vendémiaire. 


138  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XVII. 

MADEMOISELLE   DE    SAINT-AMOUR    HAS    A    HEADACHE. 

Each  of  the  directors  had  a  suite  of  rooms  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg arranged  according  to  his  habits  and  tastes  rather 
than  his  needs.  Barras,  the  man  of  society  and  the  lover 
of  splendor,  the  great  seigneur,  the  Indian  nabob,  had  taken 
to  himself  the  whole  wing  now  occupied  by  the  picture  gal- 
lery and  its  dependencies.  Eewbell  and  La  Kevellière- 
Lepeaux  shared  the  other  wing.  Carnot  had  taken  for 
himself  and  his  brother  a  part  of  the  ground-floor,  in  which 
he  had  made  an  enormous  office  to  contain  his  maps.  Bar- 
thélémy, who  came  last,  and  was  ill  received  by  his  col- 
leagues as  the  representative  of  the  counter  revolution,  took 
what  he  could  find. 

On  the  evening  of  the  stormy  session  of  the  Clichy  Club 
Barras  had  gone  home  in  rather  bad  humor.  He  had  made 
no  appointments,  intending  to  pass  the  evening  with  Made- 
moiselle Aurelie  de  Saint-Amour,  who  had  replied  to  his 
note  sent  at  two  o'clock  by  a  charming  letter  telling  him 
she  would  be  happy,  as  ever,  to  receive  him. 

But,  behold  !  when  he  reached  her  house  at  nine  o'clock 
Suzette  opened  the  door  on  tiptoe,  and  making  him  a  sign 
to  speak  low,  informed  him  that  her  mistress  was  suffering 
from  one  of  those  dreadful  headaches  for  which  the  Faculty, 
powerful  as  it  is,  has  never  been  able  to  find  a  remedy,  inas- 
much as  the  disease  lies  not  in  the  constitution,  but  the 
will. 

The  Director  followed  Suzette,  walking  with  the  same 
jirecautions  as  if  he  were  playing  blindman's-buff  with  his 


MADEMOISELLE    DE   SAINT-AMOUR.  139 

eyes  bandaged.  He  cast  a  distrustful  look  at  the  dressing- 
room  as  he  passed  the  door,  now  carefully  closed,  and  entered 
the  bedroom,  which  was  lighted  only  by  one  alabaster  lamp 
hanging  from  the  ceiling  and  filled  with  perfumed  oil. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  said,  however.  Here  was  i\Iade- 
moiselle  Aurelie  de  Saint- Amour  in  her  rosewood  bed  iidaid 
with  Sèvres  porcelain.  She  wore  her  lace  cap,  symbolical 
of  serious  illness,  and  spoke  in  the  plaintive  voice  of  a 
woman  who  is  making  an  effort  to  speak  at  all. 

"Ah,  my  dear  general!"  she  said,  "how  good  of  you  to 
come,  and  how  much  I  have  wanted  you  !  " 

"I  thought  it  was  agreed,"  said  Barras,  "that  I  should 
come  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  though  I  was  then  suffering  dreadfully  from 
this  odious  headache,  I  would  not  tell  you,  because  I  wanted 
so  much  to  see  you.  It  is  when  we  suffer  that  we  most 
want  those  we  love." 

She  languidly  put  forth  from  under  the  sheet  a  warm, 
moist  hand,  which  Barras  took  and  kissed  ;  then  he  seated 
himself  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

The  sick  woman  moaned. 

"Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Barras,  "  is  it  really  so  bad,  your  head- 
ache ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  no,"  replied  Aurelie  ;  "  if  I  could  sleep  it  would 
pass  off.     Oh,  if  I  could  only  sleep  !  " 

These  words  were  accompanied  by  a  sigh  which  ought  to 
have  reached  the  ears  of  Morpheus  himself. 

In  all  probability  Eve,  within  a  week  after  her  expulsion 
from  paradise,  played  off  on  Adam  the  same  little  comedy 
of  a  dreadful  headache,  which  has  lasted  for  six  thousand 
years,  and  always  meets  with  the  same  success. 

Barras  stayed  about  ten  minutes  with  the  beautiful  inva- 
lid,—  just  long  enough  to  enable  her  to  half  close  her  eyes 
and  begin  to  breathe  that  soft  and  regular  breathing  which 
indicates  that  though  the  soul  may  still  be  awake,  the  body 
is  embarking  on  sleep's  calm  ocean.  He  gently  deposited 
on  the  lace  coverlet  the  hand  he  had  held  in  his,  laid  a 


140  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

paternal  kiss  on  the  white  and  sleeping  brow,  and  charged 
Suzette  to  tell  her  mistress  that  important  public  avocations 
would  probably  prevent  his  coming  to  see  her  for  three  or 
four  days. 

Then  he  left  the  room  on  tiptoe,  as  he  had  entered  it, 
passing  close  beside  the  dressing-room  door,  which  he  had  a 
mind  to  knock  in  with  his  elbow,  for  something  told  him 
that  there  lay  the  cause  of  the  beautiful  Aurelie's  head- 
ache. But  Suzette  kept  her  eye  upon  him  to  the  threshold 
of  the  outer  door,  which  she  prudently  locked  behind  him 
with  a  double  turn  of  the  key. 

On  his  return  to  the  Luxembourg  his  valet  informed  him 
that  a  lady  was  awaiting  him.     He  made  his  usual  inquiry: 

'•'Young  or  old  ?  " 

''  She  seems  to  be  young,  monsieur  ;  but  I  can't  see  her 
face  on  account  of  her  veil." 

"  How  is  she  dressed  ?  " 

''  Like  a  lady,  —  all  in  black  satin  ;  looks  like  a  widow." 

"  Did  you  let  her  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  —  into  the  pink  boudoir.  But  if  monsieur  does  n't 
want  to  see  her,  I  can  get  her  out  without  her  passing 
through  the  antechamber.  Will  monsieur  receive  her  here, 
or  will  he  go  into  the  pink  boudoir  ?  " 

"I'll  go  there,"  said  Barras. 

Then,  remembering  that  it  might  be  some  woman  of  social 
position,  and  that  he  had  better  observe  the  proprieties  even 
at  the  Luxembourg,  he  said  to  the  valet  :  — 

"Announce  me." 

The  valet  went  first,  and  opening  the  door  of  the  boudoir, 
announced  :  — 

"  The  citizen  Director,  General  Barras  !  " 

Barras  entered  with  the  grand  manner  he  inherited  from 
the  aristocratic  world  to  which  he  belonged,  and  to  which, 
in  spite  of  three  years  of  Revolution  and  two  of  the  Direc- 
tory, he  still  belonged. 

In  a  corner  of  the  boudoir  near  a  sofa  stood  a  woman 
who,  as  the  valet  had  said,  was  dressed  all  in  black,  and 


MADEMOISELLE   DE   SAINT-AMOUR.  141 

whose  attitude  and  bearing  at  once  told  Barras  that  he  had 
to  do  with  a  woman  of  birth  and  breeding. 

Laying  his  hat  on  the  table,  he  advanced  toward  her 
and  said  :  — 

"You  wished  to  see  me,  madame;  here  I  am." 

The  young  woman  with  a  superb  gesture  raised  her  veil 
and  displayed  a  face  of  great  beauty.  Beauty  is  the  most 
powerful  of  all  the  fairies,  and  the  best  of  all  introducers. 
Barras  stopped  for  an  instant,  dazzled. 

"  Ah,  madame  !  "  he  said,  "  it  is  very  fortunate  for  me  that 
I  have  returned  unexpectedly  to  the  Luxembourg,  where 
such  a  visitor  awaited  me.  Pray  sit  down,  and  tell  me  the 
circumstances  to  which  I  owe  this  pleasure." 

He  made  a  movement  to  take  her  hand  and  place  her  on 
the  sofa,  from  which  she  had  evidently  risen  on  hearing 
him  announced  ;  but  she,  keeping  her  hands  buried  in  her 
veil,  replied  :  — 

"  Excuse  nie,  monsieur,  but  I  prefer  to  stand,  —  as  a  sup- 
pliant should." 

"  Suppliant  !  You,  madame  !  A  woman  like  you  does 
not  entreat,  she  orders  ;  or,  at  least,  she  claims." 

"Yes,  monsieur,  that  is  the  word.  In  the  name  of  the 
town  in  which  we  were  both  born  ;  in  the  name  of  my  father, 
a  friend  of  yours  ;  in  the  name  of  outraged  humanity  and 
insulted  law,  I  have  come  here  to  claim  vengeance  !  " 

"That  word  is  a  harsh  one  for  such  young  and  pretty 
lips,"  remarked  Barras. 

"  Monsieur,  I  am  the  daughter  of  the  Comte  de  Fargas, 
who  was  murdered  at  Avignon  by  the  republicans,  and  the 
sister  ot  the  Vicomte  de  Fargas,  who  has  just  been  assassi 
nated  at  Bourg  in  Bresse  by  the  Company  of  Jehu." 

"Again!  —  they!"  murmured  Barras.  "Are  you  sure, 
mademoiselle  ?  "  he  said  aloud. 

The  young  girl  held  out  to  him  a  paper  and  a  dagger. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  asked  Barras. 

"  The  proof  of  what  I  have  just  told  you.  The  body  of 
my  brother  was  found  three  days  ago  on  the  place  de  la 


142  THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

Prefecture  at  Bourg  witli  this  dagger  in  his  heart,  and  this 
pajDer  fastened  to  the  hilt  of  the  dagger." 

Barras  began  by  examining  the  dagger  with  the  utmost 
curiosity.  It  was  forged  of  a  single  piece  of  iron  in  the 
form  of  a  cross,  such  as  they  describe  the  ancient  daggers 
of  the  Saint- Wehme,  The  only  thing  that  distinguished  it 
were  the  words  "  Company  of  Jehu  "  engraved  upon  the 
blade. 

"  But,"  said  Barras,  "  this  dagger  is  only  presumptive 
evidence.  It  may  have  been  stolen  or  forged  expressly  to 
mislead  justice." 

''  Yes,"  said  the  young  woman,  "  but  here  is  something 
that  does  not  mislead.  Read  that  paper,  written  in  my 
brother's  writing  and  signed  by  him." 

Barras  read  :  — 

I  die  for  having  broken  a  solemn  oath  ;  consequently  I  admit  the 
justice  of  my  death.  If  you  wish  to  give  me  burial  you  will  find 
my  body  in  the  market-place  of  Bourg.  The  dagger  in  my  breast 
will  show    that  I  do  not  die  by  a  cowardly  murder,  but  by  a  just 


revenge. 


Vicomte  de  Fargas. 


"  Was  that  letter  addressed  to  you,  mademoiselle  ?  " 
asked  Barras. 

"Yes,  monsieur." 

"  And  that  is  really  your  brother's  writing  ?  " 

*'  That  is  really  his  writing." 

"  What  does  he  mean  when  he  says  he  does  '  not  die  by  a 
cowardly  murder,  but  by  a  just  revenge  '  ?  " 

"  He  belonged  himself  to  the  Company  of  Jehu.  He  was 
arrested,  and  in  spite  of  his  oath  he  revealed  the  names  of 
his  companions.  Ha  !  "  said  the  girl,  with  a  strange  laugh, 
"  it  was  I  who  ought  to  have  entered  the  Company  instead 
of  him  !  " 

*'  Wait,"  said  Barras  ;  "  I  must  have  among  my  papers  a 
report  that  relates  to  this." 


MISSION   OF   MADEMOISELLE   DE   FAKGAS.  143 


XVIII. 

THE   MISSION    OF    MADEMOISELLE    DE    FAKGAS. 

Barras,  leaving  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  alone  for  a 
moment,  went  into  his  office  and  took  from  a  box  in  which 
he  kept  his  private  papers  a  letter  from  the  public  prose- 
cutor of  the  Eepublic  at  Avignon,  which  told  him  the  facts 
of  the  affair  up  to  the  time  when  the  Vicomte  de  Fargas 
was  removed  to  Nantua. 

He  gave  it  to  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas.  She  read  it 
from  end  to  end  attentively,  and  saw  in  it  all  that  she  knew 
herself  of  the  trial  before  her  brother  left  Avignon, 

"  Then,"  she  said,  giving  the  paper  back  to  Barras,  "you 
have  heard  nothing  more  for  the  last  three  days  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Barras. 

"That  does  not  say  much  for  your  police.  Happily,  I 
can  repair  the  omission." 

She  then  related  to  Barras  how  she  had  followed  her 
brother  to  Nantua,  arriving  just  in  time  to  hear  of  his 
abduction  from  the  prison  and  the  removal  of  the  papers 
from  the  court-house,  and  how  the  morning  after  her  arri- 
val at  Bourg  she  had  found  her  brother's  body  in  the 
market-place  of  Bourg,  stabbed  with  the  dagger  of  the 
Company  of  Jehu. 

All  such  events  happening  in  the  South  and  East  had 
a  character  of  mystery  which  the  cleverest  agents  of  the 
Directory  police  found  it  impossible  to  penetrate.  Barras 
hoped  for  a  moment  that  his  beautiful  informer  could  give 
him  some  private  details  ;  but  her  stay  at  Nantua  and 
Bourg,  though  it  brought  the  events  and  their  results  vividly 
before  his  eyes,  did  not  tell  him  anything  more  than  could 
be  known  generally. 


144  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

On  the  other  hand,  all  that  Barras  could  tell  her  was  that 
these  events  were  connected  with  the  struggle  in  Brittany 
and  La  Vendée.  The  Directory  had  always  known  that  these 
terrible  highwaymen  were  not  robbing  diligences  and  mail- 
coaches  for  their  own  benefit,  but  to  send  the  money  to  Cha- 
rette,  Stofflet,  the  Abbé  Bernier,  and  Cadoudal.  Charette 
and  Stofflet  had  been  taken  and  shot.  The  Abbé  Bernier  had 
sent  in  his  submission;  only,  he  bad  broken  his  parole  and 
instead  of  going  to  England,  as  he  was  pledged  to  do,  he 
remained  hidden  in  Brittany.  And  now,  after  a  year  or 
eighteen  months  of  tram^uillity,  which  induced  the  Direc- 
tory to  withdraw  Hoche  from  La  Vendée  and  send  him 
to  the  Army  of  the  Sambre-et-Meuse,  the  rumor  of  a  new 
uprising  began  to  be  bruited  about,  and  little  by  little  the 
Directors  became  aware  that  four  new  chiefs  had  appeared 
in  the  province,  —  Prestier,  d'Autichamp,  Suzannet,  and 
Griguon.  As  for  Cadoudal,  he  had  not  negotiated,  and  had 
never  laid  down  his  arms  ;  he  had  always  hindered  Brittany 
from  recognizing  the  republican  government. 

An  idea  now  seemed  to  strike  Barras  ;  but,  like  all  those 
rash  ideas  which  at  first  sight  seem  impossible  to  make 
practical  use  of,  this  one  needed  an  actual  period  of  time 
before  it  could  issue  from  the  brain  that  conceived  it. 
The  Director  turned  his  eyes  first  on  the  proud  young  girl, 
then  on  the  dagger  which  he  still  held  in  his  hand,  and 
finally  from  the  dagger  to  the  farewell  letter  of  the  brother 
which  lay  on  the  table. 

Diana  became  weary  of  the  silence. 

*'I  asked  for  vengeance,"  she  said,  "and  you  do  not 
answer  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  vengeance  ?  "  asked  Barras. 

"I  mean  the  death  of  those  who  killed  my  brother." 

"  Tell  me  their  names.  We  have  as  much  interest  as  you 
can  have  in  making  them  expiate  their  crimes  ;  once  cap- 
tured, their  execution  would  not  be  long  delayed." 

"If  I  knew  their  names,  I  would  not  come  to  you," 
replied  Diana.     "  I  should  have  stabbed  them  myself." 


MISSION   OF   MADEMOISELLE   DE   FARGAS.  145 

Barras  looked  at  lier. 

The  calmness  with  which  she  said  those  words  proved 
their  truth  ;  ignorance  of  the  names  was  indeed  the  only 
reason  why  she  had  not  taken  justice  into  her  own  hands. 

"  Well,"  said  Barras,  "  search  for  some  means  yourself  ; 
we  will  search  on  our  side." 

"  I  search  ?  "  said  Diana.  "  Is  that  my  business  ?  Am  I 
the  government  ?  Am  I  the  police  ?  Is  it  my  duty  to 
protect  the  safety  of  citizens  ?  My  brother  was  arrested 
and  put  in  prison  ;  the  prison  is  a  government  building,  and 
the  government  is  responsible  for  my  brother.  The  prison 
opens  and  delivers  up  its  prisoner.  Therefore,  since  you 
are  the  head  of  the  government,  I  come  to  you  and  say  : 
"  My  brother  !  my  brother  !  my  brother  !  " 

"Mademoiselle,"  replied  Barras,  "we  live  in  troubled 
times,  when  the  keenest  eye  can  scarcely  see,  when  the 
strongest  heart  may  perhaps  not  weaken,  but  the  strongest 
arm  does  often  tremble  and  give  way.  We  have  at  the 
East  and  at  the  South  the  Company  of  Jehu  who  murder 
and  rob  ;  we  have  at  the  West  the  inhabitants  of  Brittany 
and  La  Vendée  who,  to  a  man,  are  fighting  behind  their 
trees  and  their  bushes.  We  have  three  fourths  of  Paris  at 
this  moment  conspiring,  two  thirds  of  the  Legislature 
against  us,  two  of  our  own  colleagues  undermining  us  ;  and 
you  expect,  in  the  midst  of  this  general  trouble,  that  the 
grand  machine  which  is  here  to  protect  the  saving  princi- 
ples which  will  transform  all  Europe,  is  to  turn  its  eyes 
from  its  own  perils  and  see  only  that  little  spot  of  France 
on  which  your  brother's  body  lay.  That  is  asking  too 
much,  mademoiselle  ;  we  are  simple  mortals,  and  you  ask 
for  the  omniscience  of  God.     You  loved  your  brother  ?  " 

"I  adored  him." 

"  You  desire  to  avenge  him  ?  " 

"I  would  give  my  life  for  that  of  his  murderer." 

"If  you  were  offered  a  means  of  knowing  that  murderer, 
whatever  it  might  be,  would  you  take  it  ?  " 

Diana  hesitated  an  instant  ;  then  she  said  vehemently  : 

VOL.    II.  —  10 


146  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"Whatever  tlie  means  may  be,  I  will  take  it." 

"  Then  listen  to  me,"  said  Barras  ;  "  help  us,  and  we  will 
help  you." 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  You  are  young  and  beautiful  —  very  beautiful." 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  Diana,  not  lower- 
ing her  eyes. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Barras,  "  it  has  everything  to 
do  with  it.  In  this  great  battle  which  we  call  life,  beauty 
was  given  to  a  woman  not  as  a  simple  gift  of  heaven  to 
rejoice  the  eyes  of  a  husband  or  lover,  but  as  a  means  of 
attack  and  defence.  The  Company  of  Jehu  have  no  secrets 
from  Cadoudal.  He  is  their  real  chief  ;  it  is  for  him  they 
act  ;  he  knows  their  names  from  the  first  to  the  last." 

"  Well,"  said  Diana,  as  Barras  paused,  "  what  next  ?  " 

"  The  next  is  simply  this,"  resumed  Barras.  "  Go  to  La 
Vendée  or  Brittany  ;  meet  Cadoudal ,  wherever  he  may  be, 
present  yourself  to  him  as  a  victim,  which  you  really  are, 
to  your  devotion  to  the  royalist  cause.  Win  his  confidence, 
and  all  is  easy.  Cadoudal  cannot  see  you  intimately  with- 
out falling  in  love  with  you.  With  his  love  he  will  give 
his  confidence.  Resolute  as  you  are,  and  with  the  memory 
of  your  brother  in  your  heart,  you  will  grant  only  that 
which  it  pleases  you  to  grant.  You  can  then  obtain  the 
names  of  those  men  of  whom  you  are  in  search.  Let  us 
know  their  names,  that  is  all  we  ask  of  you,  and  your  ven- 
geance shall  be  satisfied.  Moreover,  if  your  influence  over 
Cadoudal  should  go  so  far  as  to  induce  that  obstinate  rebel 
to  lay  down  his  arms  and  submit  like  the  rest,  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  there  are  no  limits  to  what  the  govern- 
ment —  " 

''Take  care,  monsieur,"  she  said;  "one  word  more  and 
you  insult  me.  I  ask  for  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to 
consider  your  suggestion." 

"  You  shall  have  all  the  time  you  wish,  mademoiselle," 
replied  Barras. 

"Till  to-morrow,  here,  at  nine  o'clock,"  said  Diana. 


MISSION    OF   MADEMOISELLE    DE    FARGAS.  147 

She  rose,  took  the  dagger  from  Barras's  hand,  and  the 
letter  from  the  table,  replaced  them  both  in  the  bosom  of 
her  dress,  bowed  to  Barras  and  withdrew. 

The  next  day,  at  the  hour  she  had  named,  the  valet  again 
announced  to  Barras  that  Mademoiselle  Diana  de  Fargas 
was  in  the  pink  boudoir.  Barras  hastened  there  and  found 
the  3^oung  girl,  who  was  eagerly  awaiting  him." 

''Well,  my  beautiful  Nemesis  ?  "'  he  asked. 

"  I  have  decided  to  follow  your  suggestion,  monsieur," 
she  said;  "only,  I  shall  need,  as  you  will  readily  understand, 
a  safe-conduct,  which  shall  oblige  the  republican  authorities 
to  protect  me.  In  the  life  I  am  undertaking  it  is  quite 
possible  I  may  be  captured  with  arms  in  my  hands,  and 
making  war  against  the  Republic.  You  shoot  women  and 
children  ;  you  are  making  a  war  of  extermination  ;  that  is 
a  matter  between  yourselves  and  God  ;  but  as  for  me,  I  do 
not  wish  to  be  shot  before  I  have  avenged  myself." 

"  I  have  foreseen  your  request,  mademoiselle,  and  here  is 
not  only  a  passport  which  will  ensure  you  easy  passage 
everywhere,  but  also  a  safe-conduct  which,  in  any  extreme 
case  will  transform  your  enemies  into  defenders.  I  advise 
you  however,  to  hide  these  papers  carefully,  especially  the 
second,  from  the  eyes  of  the  Chouans  and  Vendeans.  Eight 
days  ago,  tired  of  seeing  this  hydra  of  civil  war  show  a 
new  head  at  every  turn,  we  sent  orders  to  General  Hedou- 
ville  to  give  no  quarter.  And  we  have  also  despatched,  as 
in  the  glorious  days  of  the  Republic,  when  the  Convention 
decreed  victory,  one  of  our  former  drowners  in  the  Loire 
with  a  new  guillotine.  His  name  is  François  Goulin,  and  he 
knows  the  country.  The  guillotine  will  serve  equally  for 
the  Chouans  if  captured,  or  our  own  generals  if  they  allow 
themselves  to  be  defeated.  Citizen  Goulin  is  taking  to 
General  Hedouville  a  reinfoi-cement  of  six  thousand  men. 
The  Vendeans  and  the  Bretons  are  not  afraid  of  guns; 
they  march  in  face  of  a  volley  shouting  :  '  Long  live  the 
king  !  '  '  Long  live  religion  !  '  and  chanting  the  Canticles. 
We  shall  see  how  they  march  to  the  guillotine  !     You  will 


148  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

meet,  or  rather  you  must  join  these  six  thousand  men  and 
the  citizen  Goulin  on  the  road  between  Angers  and  Rennes. 
If  you  have  cause  to  fear  put  yourself  under  their  protec- 
tion until  you  reach  La  Vendée  and  discover  Cadoudal's 
exact  position;  there  you  will  of  course  join  him." 

''  Very  good,  monsieur,"  said  Diana,  ''  I  thank  you." 

"  When  will  you  start  ?  "  asked  Barras. 

"  My  carriage  and  post-horses  are  waiting  for  me  at  the 
gate  of  the  Luxembourg." 

"  Permit  me  to  ask  you  a  delicate  question,  which  it  is, 
nevertheless,  my  duty  to  put." 

"Ask  it,  monsieur." 

"  Do  you  need  money  ?  " 

"  I  have  six  thousand  francs  in  gold  in  this  casket,  which 
are  worth  more  than  twenty  thousand  in  assignats.  You 
see  I  can  make  war  on  my  own  account." 

Barras  held  out  his  hand  to  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  who 
seemed  not  to  notice  the  civility.  She  made  an  irreproach- 
able  curtsey,  and  left  the  room. 

"  A  charming  viper  !  "  thought  Barras  ;  "  but  I  should  n't 
like  to  warm  her  in  my  bosom." 


THE   TEAVELLERS.  149 


XIX. 


THE   TRAVELLERS. 


As  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  had  told  the  Director  Barras, 
a  carriage  was  awaiting  her  at  the  door  of  the  Luxembourg. 
She  now  got  into  it,  saying  to  the  postilion  :  — 

"Road  to  Orléans." 

The  postilion  touched  up  his  horses;  the  bells  jingled, 
and  the  carriage  started  toward  the  barrier  of  Fontaine- 
bleau. 

As  Paris  was  threatened  with  approaching  disturbances, 
the  barriers  were  carefully  guarded,  and  the  ge?ida7"merie 
had  orders  to  examine  vigorously  all  persons  entering 
Paris  and  all  leaving  it.  Whosoever  had  no  passport 
either  signed  by  the  new  minister  of  police,  Sothin,  or 
endorsed  by  one  of  the  three  directors,  Barras,  Rewbell, 
or  La  Revellière-Lepeaux,  had  to  give  reasons  for  his  or 
her  entrance  or  exit  to  and  from  Paris. 

Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  was  stopped  at  the  barrier  as 
others  were.  She  was  made  to  get  out  of  her  carriage 
and  go  into  the  office  of  the  commissary  of  police,  who, 
paying  no  attention  to  the  fact  that  she  was  young  and 
pretty,  asked  for  her  passport  with  the  same  sternness  he 
might  have  shown  if  she  were  old  and  ugly.  Mademoiselle 
de  Fargas  drew  a  paper  from  her  pocket-book  and  pre- 
sented it  to  the  commissary,  who  read  it  aloud  :  — 

The  citoyenne  Marie  Rotrou,  post-mistress  at  Vitré  (lUe-et- 
Vilaine). 

Signed  :  Barras. 

That  was  all-sufficient.  The  commissary  returned  the 
paper  with  a  bow  that  was  more  to  the  signature  of  Barras 


150  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC, 

than  to  the  humble  post-mistress,  who,  inclining  her  head 
slightly,  left  the  office  without  remarking  that  a  handsome 
young  man,  about  twenty-six  or  twenty-eight  years  of  age, 
who  was  about  to  present  his  passport  as  she  entered  the 
office,  had,  with  the  courtesy  of  a  well-bred  man,  drawn 
back  his  already  extended  arm  to  allow  the  handsome 
young  lady  to  speak  first.  But  he  gave  in  his  passport 
immediately  after  her.  The  official  took  it  with  the  ex- 
treme attention  he  appeared  to  bestow  upon  his  functions} 
and  again  he  read  the  words  aloud  :  — 

Citizen  Sébastien  Argentan,  tax-receiver,  at  Dinan  (Côtes-du- 
Nord). 

This  passport  not  only  bore  Barras's  signature,  but  that 
of  his  two  colleagues.  It  was  even  less  doubtful,  there- 
fore, than  that  of  Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  which  was  signed 
by  Barras  alone. 

Receiving  the  paper  from  the  commissary  of  police,  who 
bestowed  a  gracious  bow  upon  him,  M.  Sébastien  Argentan 
remounted  a  post-horse  he  had  left  at  the  door,  and  set  off 
at  a  brisk  trot,  while  the  postilion-groom,  whose  business 
it  was  to  precede  him,  and  have  a  fresh  horse  ready  at 
each  stage,  put  his  own  to  a  gallop. 

During  the  whole  night  the  tax-receiver  followed  a 
closed  post-chaise,  quite  unaware  that  the  handsome  young 
woman  he  had  seen  at  the  commissary's  was  within  it. 

As  daylight  dawned,  one  of  the  windows  of  the  carriage 
opened  to  let  in  the  fresh  air,  and  a  pretty  head,  which 
had  not  yet  shaken  off  the  impress  of  sleep,  looked  out  to 
observe  the  weather;  and  then,  to  his  surprise,  he  recog- 
nized the  post-mistress  of  Vitré  travelling  to  her  destina- 
tion in  a  post-chaise.  He  recollected  then  that  her  passport 
was  signed  by  Barras,  whose  signature  explained  many 
things,  —  above  all,  where  a  woman  was  concerned. 

The  tax-receiver  bowed  politely  to  the  post-mistress, 
who,  remembering,  on  her  side,  to  have  seen  his  face  the 
evening  before,  returned  the  salutation  politely.     Though 


THE   TRAVELLERS.  151 

the  lady  seemed  to  him  charming,  the  young  man  was  too 
well-bred  to  approach  the  carriage,  or  address  a  word  to 
its  inmate.  He  put  his  liorse  to  a  gallop,  and,  as  if  that 
interchange  of  bows  sufficed  for  his  ambition,  he  soon  dis- 
appeared over  the  brow  of  tlie  next  hill. 

But  for  all  that,  he  foresaw  that  his  road-companion, 
whose  destination  he  knew,  having  heard  it  read  aloud, 
would  stop  to  breakfast  at  Étampes.  Accordingly  he 
stopped  there  himself,  arriving  about  half  an  hour  before 
her.  He  ordered  his  own  breakfast  in  the  common  room, 
the  usual  breakfast  of  travellers  at  such  an  inn,  —  two  cut- 
lets, half  a  cold  chicken,  a  few  slices  of  ham,  fruit,  and  a 
cup  of  coffee. 

He  had  scarcely  begun  upon  his  cutlets  when  the  car- 
riage of  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  stopped  before  the  inn, 
which  was  also  the  post-house.  The  lady  asked  for  a 
chamber,  crossed  the  common  room,  bowing,  as  she  did  so, 
to  her  road  companion,  who  had  risen  at  her  entrance, 
and  went  up  to  her  apartment.  The  question  in  M. 
d'Argentan's  mind,  who  by  this  time  had  resolved  to  make 
his  journey  as  agreeable  as  possible,  was  whether  the  lady 
would  breakfast  in  her  own  chamber,  or  come  down  to  the 
common  dining-room. 

A  moment  more  and  he  was  satisfied.  The  chamber- 
maid came  in  and  laid  a  clean  napkin  on  a  table,  and  a 
knife  and  fork.  Eggs,  fruits,  and  a  cup  of  chocolate 
formed  the  frugal  meal  of  the  young  lady,  who  appeared 
at  the  moment  when  M.  d'Argentan  was  finishing  his 
breakfast.  The  young  man  noticed,  with  pleasure,  that 
although  her  dress  was  simple  it  was  worn  with  an  air 
which  showed  that  ideas  of  coquetry  were  not  extinct  in 
the  heart  of  the  pretty  post-mistress.  No  doubt  he  felt 
sure  of  overtaking  her  by  pressing  his  horse,  for  he  now 
declared  himself  tired  and  ordered  a  bedroom,  where  he 
flung  himself  on  the  bed  and  slept  for  two  hours. 

During  this  time  Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  who  had  rested 
through  the  night,  again   got  into  her  carriage  and  con- 


152  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

tinued  her  way.  About  five  in  the  afternoon  she  saw  the 
steeples  of  Orléans,  and  heard  behind  her  the  gallop  of 
horses  and  the  tinkling  of  bells,  which  told  her  she  was 
rejoined  by  the  traveller  on  horseback.  The  two  young 
people  were  now  acquaintances,  and  they  bowed  to  each 
other  graciously,  so  that  M.  d'Argentan  felt  he  was  at 
liberty  to  ride  up  to  the  carriage  door  and  ask  the  beautiful 
young  lady  how  she  felt. 

In  spite  of  her  pale  complexion,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
she  was  not  much  fatigued.  He  gallantly  congratulated 
her,  and  then  remarked  that  as  for  himself,  agreeable  as 
it  was  to  travel  on  horseback,  that  manner  of  travelling 
would  probably  not  allow  of  his  making  his  whole  journey 
without  resting  somewhere  on  the  road.  To  this  he  added 
that  if  he  found  an  opportunity  to  buy  a  carriage  he 
thought  he  should  do  so,  and  continue  his  road  in  a  less 
fatiguing  manner. 

This  was  certainly  a  covert  way  of  asking  Mademoiselle 
Rotrou  whether  it  would  be  agreeable  to  her  to  share  her 
post-chaise  and  its  cost  with  him.  Mademoiselle  Rotrou 
did  not,  however,  respond  to  this  advance.  She  talked  of 
the  weather,  which  was  fine,  and  remarked  that  she  herself 
would  probably  have  to  rest  a  day  at  Tours  or  Angers  ;  to 
which  the  rider  made  no  reply,  inwardly  resolving  to  stop 
himself  wherever  she  might  stop. 

After  this  overture  and  this  refusal  it  would  have  been 
extremely  indiscreet  to  ride  any  longer  beside  the  carriage. 
M.  d'Argentan  therefore  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop,  after 
assuring  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  that  he  would  order  post- 
horses  to  be  ready  for  her  at  Orléans. 

Any  other  woman  than  the  haughty  Diana  de  Fargas, 
any  other  heart  than  hers  in  its  triple  sheathing  of  steel, 
would  have  noticed  the  elegance,  courtesy,  and  beauty  of 
the  traveller.  But  whether  she  was  born  insensible,  or 
whether  her  heart  needed  violent  emotions  to  enable  it  to 
love,  nothing  of  that  which  would  instantly  have  attracted 
the  eyes  of  another  woman  was  noticed  by  her.     Com- 


THE   TRAVELLERS.  153 

pletely  absorbed  in  her  thoughts  of  vengeance,  unable  to 
turn  her  mind  from  the  object  of  her  journey  even  when 
she  smiled,  she  pressed,  —  as  though  remorse  were  under- 
lying her  smile,  —  she  pressed,  we  say,  to  her  breast,  the 
handle  of  that  iron  dagger,  which  had  driven  its  way  to 
the  heart  of  her  brother  and  opened  the  path  by  which  he 
had  preceded  her  to  heaven. 

Casting  a  look  along  the  road  to  see  if  she  were  really 
alone,  and  finding  that  she  was  so,  as  far  as  her  eye  could 
reach,  she  took  from  her  pocket  her  brother's  farewell  let- 
ter and  read  it  and  re-read  it,  as  we  chew  impatiently  and 
yet  obstinately  a  bitter  root.  Then  she  fell  into  a  doze, 
from  which  she  did  not  wake  until  the  carriage  stopped  to 
relay. 

She  looked  about  her.  The  horses  were  ready,  as  M. 
d'Argentan  had  promised;  but  on  inquiring  where  he  was, 
she  was  told  that  he  had  ridden  forward.  It  took  five 
minutes  to  change  horses,  and  then  the  carriage  continued 
its  way  along  the  road  to  Blois.  At  the  foot  of  the  first 
hill  the  lady  saw  her  elegant  courier  walking  his  horse,  as 
if  awaiting  her  arrival;  but  this  indiscretion,  if  it  was 
one,  was  so  excusable  that  she  instantly  excused  it. 

They  soon  came  together.  This  time  it  was  the  lady 
who  thanked  the  gentleman  for  the  attention  he  had  shown 
her. 

"I  thank  my  good  star,"  he  replied,  "that  it  led  me  into 
the  office  of  the  commissary  of  police  at  the  same  moment 
as  yourself;  by  yielding  precedence  to  you,  I  was  able 
to  learn,  from  hearing  your  passport  read,  where  you 
are  going.  It  so  happens  that  I  take  the  same  road  that 
you  do;  for  while  you  are  going  to  Vitré,  I  am  on  my  way 
to  Dinan  about  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  from  there.  Even 
if  you  do  not  remain  at  Vitré,  I  shall  have  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  making  the  acquaintance  of  a  charming  woman  and 
of  accompanying  her  certainly  nine  tenths  of  the  way.  If 
you  remain,  however,  I  shall  only  be  a  fcAV  miles  away, 
and  as  my  avocations  will  oblige  me  to  travel  through  the 


154  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

three  departments  of  the  Manche,  the  Nord,  and  Ille-et- 
Vilaine,  I  shall  ask  your  permission  when  I  pass  through 
Vitré  to  recall  myself  to  your  memory,  if  there  is  nothing 
disagreeable  in  that  memory." 

"  I  really  do  not  know  myself  how  long  I  shall  stay  at 
Vitré,"  replied  the  young  woman,  more  graciously,  how- 
ever, than  stiffly.  "In  return  for  services  rendered  by  my 
father,  I  am  appointed,  as  you  heard  in  my  passport, 
post-mistress  at  Vitré.  But  I  do  not  think  I  shall  hold  the 
situation  myself.  As  I  am  ruined  by  the  Revolution,  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  get  the  most  I  can  out  of  this  favor 
granted  to  me  by  the  government.  I  shall  probably  sell 
or  let  my  position,  and  thus  get  the  proceeds  of  it  without 
exercising  its  functions  myself." 

D'Argentan  bowed  from  his  horse,  as  if  this  confidence 
sufficed  him  and  made  him  grateful  to  a  person  who,  after 
all,  was  not  obliged  to  grant  it.  It  was  an  opening  which 
allowed  of  conversation  on  the  various  neutral  topics  which 
touch  on  private  matters  without  exactly  trenching  upon 
them.  The  subject  most  likely  to  occupy  their  minds  (one 
going  to  Vitré,  the  other  to  Dinan)  was,  undoubtedly,  the 
Chouannerie,  then  desolating  the  three  or  four  departments 
which  formed  a  part  of  ancient  Brittany. 

Mademoiselle  Rotrou  expressed  great  fear  of  falling  into 
the  hands  of  those  who  were  then  called  "brigands."  But, 
instead  of  sharing  this  fear,  or  increasing  it,  d'Argentan 
declared  that  he  should  be  a  most  fortunate  man  if  such  a 
misfortune  were  to  happen  to  her,  because  Cadoudal  had 
been  an  old  schoolmate  of  his  at  Rennes,  and  it  would 
enable  him  to  test  whether  the  famous  Chouan  chief  were 
as  lirm  in  his  friendships  as  rumor  said  he  was. 

Mademoiselle  Rotrou  became  thoughtful,  and  dropped 
the  conversation;  but,  after  a  few  moments'  silence,  she 
gave  a  sigh  of  weariness  and  said  :  — 

"I  am  really  more  fatigued  than  I  thought;  I  shall  stop 
at  Angers,  if  only  for  the  night." 


NO  COMPANY  SO  GOOD  THAT  IT  DOES  NOT  PART.   155 


XX. 

THERE   IS    NO    COMPANY    SO    GOOD    THAT    IT    DOES    NOT   PART. 

M.  d'Argentan  appeared  to  be  doubly  satisfied  on  hear- 
ing that  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  would  stop  at  Angers.  It 
required  a  good  horseman  and  one  as  accustomed  to  the 
saddle  as  himself  to  ride  continuously  the  number  of  stages 
which  he  had  just  ridden  between  Paris  and  Angers,  sup- 
posing that  he  had  come  no  further  than  Paris  without 
pausing.  He  therefore  determined  to  stop  at  Angers  him- 
self for  two  reasons,  — first,  to  restj  next,  to  improve  his 
acquaintance  with  the  young  lady. 

M.  d'Argentan,  in  spite  of  his  passport,  which  indicated 
a  provincial  residence,  was  the  embodiment  of  an  elegance 
of  manners  and  speech  which  revealed  not  only  the  Paris- 
ian, but  the  Parisian  of  aristocratic  spheres.  His  surprise 
had  been  great,  though  he  was  careful  to  let  none  of  it 
appear,  when,  after  the  first  words  exchanged  with  a  young 
and  handsome  woman  travelling  alone  and  (aggravating 
circumstance!)  under  a  passport  signed  by  Barras,  he  was 
unable  to  begin  a  more  intimate  conversation,  or  indeed, 
to  carry  the  conversation  any  farther.  As  we  have  already 
seen,  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  while  responding  in  a 
proper  manner  to  the  civilities  of  her  road  companion,  had 
not  so  much  as  suffered  him  to  put  the  toe  of  his  boot  on 
the  step  of  her  carriage,  in  which  he  had  for  an  instant 
indulged  the  hope  of  making  the  rest  of  his  journey. 
Angers  and  one  night's  rest  were  therefore  very  welcome  to 
him  as  perhaps  opening  other  opportunities  of  approaching 
the  hitherto  unapproachable  post-mistress. 

They  reached  Angers  about  five  in  the  afternoon.  A 
mile  or  two  out  of  the  town  the  horseman  rode  up  to  the 
side  of  the  carriage,  and,  bowing  low,  asked  ;  — 


156  THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

"Is  it  presuming  too  miicli  to  inquire  if  you  are 
hungry?  " 

Diana,  who  saw  the  motive  of  her  road  companion,  made 
a  movement  of  the  lips  that  resembled  a  smile. 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  she  said;  "the  inquirj^  is  indiscreet." 

"Ah,  you  don't  mean  it!  and  why?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you.  Because  if  I  were  to  say  that  I  am 
hungry,  you  would  ask  permission  to  ride  forward  and 
order  my  dinner;  the  moment  I  had  given  you  that  per- 
mission you  would  ask  me  to  have  it  served  at  your  table, 
—  that  is  to  say,  you  would  invite  me  to  dinner,  and  that 
would  certainly  be  an  indiscretion." 

"Eeally,  mademoiselle,  your  logic  is  pitiless,"  said  M. 
d'Argentan;  "and,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  not  at 
all  in  accordance  with  the  customs  of  this  epoch." 

"That,"  replied  Diana,  frowning,  "is  because  few  women 
were  ever  placed  in  a  situation  like  mine.  Do  you  not  see, 
monsieur,  that  I  am  dressed  in  black?" 

"Are  you  in  mourning  for  a  husband,  madame?  Your 
passport  seemed  to  indicate  that  you  were  unmarried,  and 
not  a  widow." 

"I  am  an  unmarried  young  girl,  rnonsieur;  if  indeed 
any  one  can  remain  young  after  five  years  of  solitude  and 
misfortune.  My  last  relation,  my  only  friend,  he  who 
was  all  in  all  to  me,  has  just  died.  You  need  not  feel 
annoyed,  monsieur;  you  have  not  lost  your  powers  of 
attraction  on  leaving  Paris,  but  I,  whose  heart  is  full 
of  sadness,  cannot  duly  appreciate  the  merits  of  those  who 
are  kind  enough  to  address  me  and  to  perceive  that  I  am 
young,  in  spite  of  my  grief,  and  passably  good-looking, 
notwithstanding  my  mourning.  And  now  I  will  admit 
that  I  am  as  hungry  as  any  one  can  be  who  drinks  her 
tears  and  lives  on  memories  instead  of  hopes.  I  shall  dine, 
monsieur,  without  any  prudishness,  in  the  same  room  as 
you,  assuring  you  that  under  other  circumstances  I  would 
certainly  sit  at  the  same  table,  if  only  to  thank  you  for  the 
attentions  you  have  paid  me  throughout  the  journey." 


NO  COMPANY  SO  GOOD  THAT  IT  DOES  NOT  PAKT.   157 

The  young  man  rode  as  near  to  the  carriage  as  the  trot- 
ting of  the  horses  would  allow. 

"Madame,"  he  said,  "after  such  an  admission,  there 
remains  but  one  thing  for  me  to  say  to  you.  If  in  your 
great  isolation  you  should  ever  need  to  lean  upon  a  friend, 
that  friend  is  already  found;  and  though  found  on  the 
high-road,  I  assure  you  that  he  is  worth  more  than  many 
another.  " 

Then,  putting  his  horse  to  a  gallop,  he  rode  off  in  advance 
to  order  the  two  dinners.  Only,  when  he  reached  the  inn 
and. found  that  Mademoiselle  Eotrou's  arrival  would  coin- 
cide with  the  hour  of  the  table  d'hôte,  he  had  the  delicacy, 
at  the  risk  of  not  seeing  her  again,  to  tell  the  people  at  the 
hôtel  that  she  would  dine  in  her  own  room. 

At  the  table  d'hôte  the  whole  talk  related  to  six  thou- 
sand men  just  despatched  by  the  Directory  to  put  down 
Cadoudal.  For  the  last  two  weeks  Cadoudal,  with  the  five 
or  six  hundred  men  whom  he  had  recruited,  had  attempted 
bolder  strokes  than  any  of  the  royalist  generals  who  had 
hitherto  commanded  in  Brittany  or  La  Vendée,  even  in  the 
bitterest  epochs  of  the  civil  war. 

The  Dinan  tax-receiver,  M.  d'Argentan,  inquired  with 
much  particularity  as  to  the  road  the  little  army  had  taken. 
They  told  him  there  was  great  uncertainty  on  that  point, 
inasmuch  as  the  man  who  seemed,  in  spite  of  his  having 
no  military  rank,  to  give  orders  to  the  column,  had  stated 
at  that  very  hôtel  that  the  road  he  should  follow  depended 
on  certain  information  he  expected  to  find  at  the  village  of 
Chateaubriant.  The  position  occupied  by  the  enemy  he 
had  come  to  fight  would  decide  wliether  he  should  plunge 
into  the  Morbihan,  or  follow  the  line  of  the  Maine  hills. 

After  dinner,  M.  d'Argentan  sent  a  message  to  Made- 
moiselle Rotrou,  asking  if  she  would  do  him  the  honor  to 
receive  him,  as  he  had  a  communication  of  some  impor- 
tance to  make  to  her.  She  answered  that  she  would  do  so 
with  pleasure. 

Five  minutes  later  M.  d'Argentan  entered  Mademoiselle 


158  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Rotrou's  chamber.  She  received  him  sitting  by  the  open 
window,  and  motioned  him  to  take  an  arm-chair  opposite 
to  her.  M.  d'Argentan  thanked  her  with  an  inclination  of 
the  head,  but  contented  himself  by  leaning  on  the  back  of 
the  chair. 

"As  you  might  think,  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "that  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  again  has  made  me  invent  a  pretext 
to  meet  you,  I  will  tell  you  at  once,  without  abusing  your 
kindness,  what  brings  me  here.  I  don't  know  if  you  have 
had  occasion  to  meet  within  two  or  three  hundred  miles  of 
Paris  any  of  those  special  agents  of  the  government  who 
become  more  and  more  tyrannical  the  farther  they  get 
from  the  centre  of  power.  But  I  do  know  that  we  are 
about  to  cross  a  whole  column  of  Republican  troops,  led  by 
one  of  those  wretches  whose  business  it  is  to  cut  off  heads 
for  the  government.  It  seems  that  shooting  is  too  good 
for  Chouans,  and  this  man  is  bringing  the  guillotine  to  be 
naturalized  on  the  soil  of  Brittany.  At  Chateaubriant, 
that  is,  about  eighteen  miles  from  here,  this  man  intends 
to  select  a  route  for  his  column,  and  he  will  either  march 
straight  to  the  sea.,  or  plunge  inland  between  the  Côtes-du- 
Nord  and  the  Morbihan.  Have  you  any  reason  to  fear 
him?  If  you  have,  no  matter  what  route  you  take,  even 
if  you  have  to  pass  the  whole  Republican  column,  I  shall 
stay  with  you.  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  have  nothing  to 
fear,  — and  I  hope  you  will  not  mistake  the  feeling  which 
prompts  this  question,  —  having  myself  but  a  moderate 
liking  for  the  tri-color  cockade  (you  see  I  am  perfectly 
frank),  I  shall  avoid  the  column,  and  take  whichever  road 
it  does  not  take,  in  order  to  reach  Dinan." 

"First,  I  must  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  monsieur," 
replied  Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  "  and  assure  you  of  my  grate- 
ful feelings.  I  am  not,  as  you  know,  going  to  Dinan,  but 
to  Vitré.  Therefore,  if  the  column  takes  the  road  to 
Rennes,  which  is  that  of  Dinan,  I  shall  not  meet  it;  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  takes  that  of  Vitré,  it  would  not  hinder 
me  from  taking  the  same  road,   which  is  mine.     I  have 


NO  COMPANY  SO  GOOD  THAT  IT  DOES  NOT  PART.   159 

no  greater  sympathy  for  tri-color  cockades,  or  special 
agents  of  the  government,  or  guillotines,  than  yourself; 
but  I  have  no  reason  to  fear  them.  I  may  even  say  more. 
I  knew  of  the  march  of  this  column  and  the  instrument  it 
carries  with  it,  before  I  left  Taris;  and  as  it  crosses  a 
part  of  Brittany  occupied  by  Cadoudal,  I  am  authorized,  in 
case  of  difficulty,  to  put  myself  under  its  protection.  All 
will  depend,  therefore,  on  what  the  leader  of  the  column 
decides  at  Chateaubriant.  If  he  takes  the  road  to  Vitré  I 
shall,  with  much  regret,  take  leave  of  you  at  the  fork  of 
the  roads.  If,  on  the  contrary,  he  goes  to  Rennes,  and 
your  repugnance  prompts  you  to  avoid  him,  I  shall  owe  to 
that  repugnance  the  pleasure  of  continuing  my  journey 
with  you  as  far  as  my  destination." 

The  manner  in  which  M.  d'Argentan  had  announced 
himself  gave  him  no  excuse,  after  this  explanation  had 
been  given  and  received,  to  prolong  his  visit.  He  bowed 
and  left  the  room,  while  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  made  a 
motion  to  rise  from  her  chair. 

The  next  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  they  both,  after  the 
usual  civilities,  departed.  At  the  second  post,  which  was 
that  of  Chateaubriant,  they  made  inquiries.  The  column 
had  started  an  hour  earlier,  and  had  taken  the  road  to 
Vitré.  The  two  travellers  were  therefore  to  separate.  M. 
d'Argentan  approached  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  for  the  last 
time,  and,  after  renewing  his  offers  of  service,  he  bade  her 
farewell  in  a  voice  of  emotion. 

Mademoiselle  Rotrou  raised  her  eyes  to  this  elegant 
young  man.  Too  much  a  woman  of  the  world  herself  not 
to  be  grateful  for  the  respectful  manner  in  which  he  had 
conducted  himself,  she  gave  him  her  hand  to  kiss. 

M.  d'Argentan  mounted  a  horse  and  said  to  the  postilion- 
groom,  who  started  before  him,  "  Road  to  Rennes  !  "  while 
the  carriage  of  the  young  lady,  obeying  an  order  given  in 
a  voice  as  calm  as  usual,  took  the  road  to  Vitré. 


IfiO  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXI. 

CITIZEN    FRANÇOIS    GOULIN. 

Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  or  rather,  as  we  ought  to  call 
her,  Diana  de  Fargas,  fell  into  deep  meditation  as  she  left 
Chateaubriant.  In  the  then  state  of  her  heart  it  was,  or  she 
supposed  it  to  be,  impervious  to  all  tender  sentiments, 
especially  to  that  of  love.  But  beauty,  elegance,  courtesy 
will  always  produce  sufficient  influence  upon  a  well-bred 
woman  to  make  her  meditate,  if  not  to  make  her  love. 

Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  was  meditating  on  her  late  com- 
panion; and  she  was  struck  for  the  first  time  with  a  faint 
suspicion.  She  asked  herself  how  it  was  that  a  man  pro- 
tected by  the  triple  signature  of  Barras,  Rewbell,  and  La 
Kevelliere-Lepeaux,  had  such  invincible  repugnance  to  the 
agents  of  a  government  which  honored  him  with  special 
marks  of  confidence.  She  forgot  that  she  herself,  whose 
sympathies  were  far  from  warm  toward  the  Revolutionary 
government,  was  travelling  now  under  its  direct  protec- 
tion. Supposing  that  M.  d'Argentan  was  a  ci-devant,  as  a 
few  words  dropped  by  him  at  their  last  interview  now  led 
her  to  suppose,  it  was  possible  that  circumstances  not 
unlike  her  own  might  have  given  him  a  protection  he  was 
loath  to  claim. 

Diana  had  remarked  that  whenever  M.  d'Argentan  dis- 
mounted from  liis  horse  he  always  took  down  and  carried 
in  his  hand  a  valise,  the  weight  of  which  seemed  greater 
than  its  size  warranted.  Though  the  young  man  was  strong 
and  vigorous  and  (posRibly  to  mislead  suspicion)  often 
carried  the  valise  in  one  hand,  it  was  easy  to  see  that 
the  bag,  with  which  he  affected  to  play,  as  if  it  contained 


CITIZEN   FRANÇOIS   GOULIN.  161 

merely  a  few  travelling-clothes,  was  really  heavier  than  it 
seemed  to  be.  Was  he  carrying  money?  In  that  case, 
what  a  singular  tax-receiver  he  must  be  who  took  money 
from  Paris  to  Dinau,  instead  of  from  Dinan  to  Paris  ! 

Moreover,  although  at  this  period  when  all  things  were 
in  subversion,  it  was  not  unusual  to  see  strange  social  con- 
tradictions, Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  had  studied  the  differ- 
ent grades  of  society  well  enough  to  know  that  it  would 
never  enter  into  the  habits  of  a  petty  receiver  of  taxes  in 
a  distant  country  district  to  ride  a  horse  with  the  ease  of 
an  Englishman,  or  to  express  himself,  especially  at  the 
close  of  an  epoch  when  every  one  tried  to  make  himself 
brutal  in  imitation  of  the  powers  of  the  day,  with  a  cour- 
tesy which  retained  the  iudelible  perfume  of  gentlemanly 
breeding.  She  asked  herself,  though  her  heart  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  question,  who  this  unknown  man  might 
be,  and  what  motive  could  have  induced  him  to  travel  with 
a  passport  which,  undoubtedly,  was  not  his  own. 

The  curious  thing  about  all  this  was  that  M.  d'Argentan, 
after  parting  from  Diana  de  Fargas,  put  precisely  the  same 
question  to  himself  as  to  his  late  travelling-companion  that 
she  w^as  asking  about  him. 

Suddenly,  as  the  carriage  reached  the  heights  above  the 
relay  at  La  Guerche,  from  which  the  main-road  can  be  seen 
for  many  miles,  Diana  shuddered  as  her  eyes  were  dazzled 
by  the  barrels  of  innumerable  muskets  which  reflected  the 
sunlight.  The  road  before  her  looked  like  a  shining  river 
of  molten  steel.  It  was,  of  course,  the  Kepublican  col- 
umn, the  head  of  which  was  already  halting  at  La  Guerche, 
while,  a  mile  in  the  rear,  the  rest  of  the  column  was  still 
marching. 

Everything  was  an  event  in  these  anxious  days,  and  as 
Diana  was  liberal  in  her  payments  to  the  postilions,  the 
one  who  was  now  with  her  asked  whether  he  should  follow 
the  rear  of  the  column,  or,  by  taking  the  carriage  outside 
of  the  road,  press  on  without  delay  to  La  Guerche.  Made- 
moiselle de  Fargas  ordered  him  to  close  the  top  of  the 

VOL.  II.  — 11 


162  THE    FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

carriage,  that  she  might  not  be  an  object  of  curiosity  as 
she  passed,  and  to  continue  his  way  to  La  Guerche  without 
delay. 

The  postilion  did  as  he  was  told,  and  put  his  horses  to 
the  well-known  little  trot  by  which  the  quadrupeds  of  the 
postal  service  contrive  to  do  six  miles  an  hour  on  occasion. 
The  result  was  that  Mademoiselle  Diana  de  Fargas  soon 
arrived  at  the  gates  of  La  Guerche.  When  we  say  gates 
we  mean  the  opening  of  the  street  which  continues  the 
high-road  from  Chateaubriant. 

The  road  was  blocked.  An  immense  machine  drawn  by 
twelve  horses  and  placed  on  a  truck  too  wide  to  pass 
between  two  mile-stones  obstructed  the  entrance  to  the 
village.  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  finding  the  carriage  at 
a  standstill,  and  not  aware  of  the  reason,  put  her  head  out 
of  the  window  and  asked  :  — 

"What  is  the  matter,  postilion?" 

"The  matter  is,  citoyenne,"  he  said,  "that  our  streets 
are  not  wide  enough  for  the  instrument  they  want  to  bring 
in,  and  so  they  are  obliged  to  grub  up  a  milestone  to  let 
Monsieur  Guillotin's  machine  make  its  entrance  to  La 
Guerche." 

Sure  enough,  the  Sieur  François  Goulin,  commissioner 
extraordinary  of  the  government,  having  decided  to  travel 
with  his  instrument  of  death  for  the  edification  of  towns 
and  villages,  found,  on  arriving  at  La  Guerche,  that  the 
street  was  too  narrow,  not  for  the  machine  itself,  but  for 
the  ambulating  platform  on  which  it  was  erected. 

Diana  cast  her  eyes  on  the  hideous  thing  which  obstructed 
the  road,  aud  feeling  sure  it  was  the  scaffold  (a  thing  she 
had  never  before  seen)  exclaimed,  as  she  hastily  drew  back 
her  head  :  — 

"Oh!  horrible!" 

"Horrible?  horrible?"  repeated  a  voice  from  the  crowd, 
"I  would  like  to  know  what  aristocrat  dares  to  speak  with 
so  little  respect  of  an  instrument  which  has  done  more  for 
civilization  than  any  other  invention  except  the  plough." 


CITIZEN    FRANÇOIS    GOULIN.  163 

"I  di4,  monsieur,"  said  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  "and  I 
should  be  much  obliged  to  you,  if  you  are  in  authority 
here,  to  let  my  carriage  enter  La  Guerche  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble; I  am  in  a  hurry." 

"In  a  hurry,  are  you?"  said  a  thin  and  shrunken  little 
man,  pale  with  anger,  who  was  dressed  in  that  repulsive 
carmagnole,  the  well-known  spencer,  or  jacket,  of  the  Jaco- 
bins, no  longer  worn  in  Paris  for  over  two  years.  "  In  a 
hurry,  are  you?  Well,  you  '11  have  to  get  out  of  your 
carriage,  aristocrat,  and  go  in  on  foot,  if  we  let  you  go  in 
at  all." 

"  Postilion,"  said  Diana,  "  open  the  top  of  the  car- 
riage." 

The  postilion  obeyed.  The  young  girl  took  off  her  veils 
and  showed  her  marvellously  beautiful  face. 

"Can  it  be,"  she  said  in  a  sarcastic  tone,  "that  I  have  to 
do  with  the  citizen  François  Goulin?  " 

"I  think  you  are  daring  to  scoff  at  me,"  cried  the  small 
man,  rushing  to  the  carriage  and  pulling  off  his  phrygian 
cap,  a  covering  to  the  head  now  entirely  discarded,  though 
the  citizen  François  Goulin  was  determined  to  restore  the 
fashion  of  it  in  the  provinces.  "Well,  yes;  it  is  I.  What 
have  you  got  to  say  to  the  citizen  Goulin?  " 

And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  as  if  he  meant  to  take 
her  by  the  shoulder.  Diana,  with  a  quick  motion,  threw 
herself  to  the  other  side  of  the  carriage. 

"  In  the  first  place,  citizen  Goulin,  if  you  wish  to  touch 
me,  which  I  think  entirely  unnecessary,  put  on  your  gloves. 
I  detest  dirty  hands." 

Citizen  Goulin  called  to  four  men,  intending,  no  doubt, 
to  order  them  to  seize  the  audacious  traveller;  but,  during 
this  instant  of  time,  Diana  had  taken  from  her  pocket- 
book  a  secret  and  special  order  given  to  her  by  Barras. 

"Excuse  me,  citizen,"  she  said,  in  the  same  satirical 
tone,  "do  you  know  how  to  read?" 

Goulin  howled  with  anger. 

"Yes?"  she  said.     "Well,  in  that  case,  read  this;  but 


164  THE    FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

take  care  not  to  crumple  the  paper.  It  may  be  useful  to 
me  in  future,  if  I  meet  with  other  uncouth  persons  like 
yourself," 

She  held  out  the  paper  to  the  citizen  François  Goulin, 
It  contained  but  four  lines  :  — 

In  the  name  of  the  Directory,  all  civil  and  military  authorities 
are  commanded  to  protect  Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  and,  if  she  demands 
it,  to  afford  her  assistance  by  force  of  arms,  under  pain  of  dismissal. 

Barras. 

Citizen  François  Goulin  read  and  re-read  the  safe-conduct 
of  Mademoiselle  Diana  de  Fargas.  Then,  like  a  bear 
forced  to  obey  his  master's  stick  and  bow  at  the  word  of 
command,  he  said  :  — 

"  These  are  strange  days,  when  women  in  satin  and  driv- 
ing in  carriages  are  allowed  to  give  orders  to  citizens 
bearing  the  signs  of  republicanism  and  equality.  But,  as 
it  appears  that  we  have  only  changed  kings,  and  you  have 
a  pass  from  King  Barras,  you  may  go  your  ways,  citoyenne; 
but  I  shall  not  forget  your  name,  mind  that,  and  if  ever 
you  fall  into  my  hands  —  " 

"Postilion,  see  if  the  road  is  clear,"  said  Mademoiselle 
de  Fargas,  in  the  tone  that  was  habitual  with  her.  "I 
have  nothing  more  to  say  to  monsieur." 

The  road  was  not  clear,  but  by  taking  a  side  road  the 
carriage  was  able  to  enter  the  village.  Mademoiselle  de 
Fargas  reached  the  post-house  with  some  difficulty,  the 
streets  being  crowded  with  Republicans.  She  was  forced 
to  enter  the  inn  for  refreshment.  Having  determined  to 
sleep  at  Vitré  she  had  eaten  nothing  since  leaving  Chateau- 
briant,  and  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  she  should 
take  some  food  at  La  Guerche.  She  therefore  ordered  a 
room,  and  a  breakfast  sent  up  to  her. 

Diana  had  hardly  begun  her  meal,  however,  before  she 
was  told  that  the  colonel  commanding  the  newly  arrived 
column  asked  permission  to  pay  his  respects  to  her.  She 
answered  that  as  she  had  not  the  honor  of  the  colonel's 


CITIZEN    FRANÇOIS    GOULIN.  165 

acquaintance  she  would  ask  him  to  excuse  her,  unless  he 
had  something  important  to  communicate. 

The  colonel  persisted,  sending  word  that  he  thought  it 
his  duty  to  tell  her  something  he  alone  knew,  and  which  he 
thought  might  be  of  a  certain  importance  to  her.  On  that, 
Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  made  a  sign  that  she  was  ready  to 
receive  the  visitor,  and  Colonel  Hulot  was  announced. 


166  THE   FIRST    RErUBLIC. 


XXII. 

COLONEL    HULOT. 

Colonel  Hulot  was  a  man  of  thirty-eight  to  forty  years 
of  age.  Ten  years  a  private  soldier  under  royalty,  without 
a  chance  to  become  even  a  corporal,  no  sooner  was  the 
Republic  proclaimed  than  he  won  his  grades,  gallant  fel- 
low that  he  was,  at  the  point  of  his  sword. 

He  had  heard  of  the  altercation  that  had  taken  place  at 
the  entrance  of  the  village  between  citizen  François  Goulin 
and  the  so-called  Mademoiselle  Kotrou. 

"Citoyenne,"  he  said,  on  entering,  "I  have  learned  what 
has  passed  between  you  and  the  commissioner  from  the 
Directory.  I  need  not  say  to  you  that  we  old  soldiers  do 
not  feel  much  good-will  to  these  drivers  of  guillotines, 
who  march  in  the  rear  of  the  armies  to  cut  off  heads,  —  as 
if  powder  and  shot,  and  sabre  and  sword  were  not  enough 
to  furnish  food  for  death  !  Knowing  that  you  had  stopped 
at  the  post-inn,  I  came  here  to  congratulate  you  on  the 
manner  in  which  you  treated  the  citizen  Goulin.  When 
men  are  trembling  before  such  scoundrels  it  is  well  that 
women  should  make  them  feel  they  are  the  scum  of  the 
earth  and  are  not  even  worthy  to  be  called  scum  by  such 
beautiful  lips  as  yours.  And  now,  citoyenne,  allow  me  to 
say  that  if  you  ever  have  need  of  Colonel  Hulot,  he  is  at 
your  service." 

"I  thank  you,  colonel,"  replied  Diana.  "If  I  had  any- 
thing to  fear,  or  anything  to  ask,  I  would  accept  your  offer 
with  the  same  frankness  with  which  you  make  it.  I  am 
going  to  Vitré,  which  is  my  destination;  and  as  there  is 
only  one  other  relay  to  make,  I  think  no  greater  harm  can 


COLONEL   HULOT.  167 

happen  to  me  during  this  last  stage  than  during  the  many 
I  have  already  made." 

"  Hum  !  hum  !  "  muttered  the  colonel.  "  It  is  only  fif- 
teen miles,  I  know,  between  here  and  Vitré;  but  I  also 
know  that  the  road  runs  through  a  narrow  gorge,  with  high 
slopes  on  each  side  covered  with  gorse  and  broom,  — 
natural  productions  made,  it  seems  to  me,  to  serve  as 
coverts  to  the  Chouans.  My  conviction  is  that,  in  spite  of 
our  numbers,  we  shall  not  reach  Vitré  without  being 
attacked.  If  you  are  as  warmly  recommended  by  citizen 
Barras  as  they  tell  me  you  are,  you  must  be  some  one  of 
importance.  Now  a  protegee  of  Barras  has  everything  to 
fear  if  she  falls  into  the  hands  of  master  Cadoudal,  who 
does  n't  feel  that  respect  for  the  Directory  which  it 
deserves.  Moreover,  I  am  personally  informed,  by  an 
official  letter  addressed  to  me  as  leader  of  the  column  with 
which  you  now  are,  that  a  citoyenne,  by  name  Mademoi- 
selle Rotrou,  may  ask  permission  to  travel  under  protection 
of  our  bayonets,  —  when  I  say  '  ask  permission  to  travel 
under  protection  of  our  bayonets,'  I  am  using  the  words  of 
the  letter;  for,  of  course,  in  such  a  case,  I  should  feel  that 
the  favor  was  all  on  my  side." 

"I  am  Mademoiselle  Rotrou,  monsieur;  and  I  am  very 
grateful  to  citizen  Barras  for  his  though tfulness;  but,  as  I 
told  you,  my  arrangements  are  made,  and  I  have  also  such 
recommendations  to  the  Chouans  that  I  think  I  am  safe 
from  all  real  danger,  even  in  that  direction.  But,  I  assure 
you,  colonel,  my  gratitude  is  none  the  less  to  you;  and  I 
am  thankful  to  find  that  you  share  my  repugnance  for  the 
wretch  they  have  given  you  as  a  travelling-companion." 

"Ah!  as  for  us,"  said  Colonel  Hulot,  "we  don't  trouble 
ourselves  about  him.  The  Republic  is  no  longer  in  the 
days  of  the  Saint-Justs  and  the  Lebons,  —  which  I  regret,  I 
must  say,  with  all  my  heart.  They  were  brave  men,  ready 
to  share  danger  with  the  rest  of  us.  They  fought  with  us, 
and  standing  motionless  on  the  battle-field,  at  the  risk  of 
being  killed  or  taken  prisoners,  they  had  a  right  to  judge 


168  THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

and  condemn  those  who  abandoned  them.  Soldiers  never 
liked  them,  but  they  respected  them;  and  when  those  men 
stretched  out  their  hand  to  take  a  head  it  was  well  under- 
stood that  no  one  had  a  right  to  save  that  head  from  the 
vengeance  of  the  Eepublic.  But  as  for  this  François 
Goulin,  who  will  run  away,  he  and  his  guillotine,  when 
the  first  shot  is  fired,  there  is  not  one  of  my  six  thousand 
men  who  would  let  him  touch  a  hair  of  the  head  of  any  one 
of  their  officers." 

They  now  announced  to  Mademoiselle  Rotrou  that  the 
horses  were  put  to  her  carriage. 

"Citoyenne,"  said  the  colonel,  "it  is  my  duty  to  send 
scouts  along  the  road  by  which  the  column  will  now 
advance.  I  have  a  small  body  of  cavalry  with  me,  made 
up  of  three  hundred  hussars  and  two  hundred  chasseurs. 
I  shall  despatch  them,  not  for  your  sake  but  my  own,  along 
the  road  you  are  taking.  If  you  need  help  from  the  officer 
in  command,  you  will  find  that  he  has  orders  to  give  it,  and 
even,  should  you  ask  it,  to  escort  you  to  Vitré." 

"Thank  you,  monsieur," replied  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas, 
offering  her  hand  to  the  old  soldier;  "but  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  compromise  the  precious  lives  of  the  defenders 
of  the  Republic  by  allowing  them  to  escort  one  so  humble 
and  so  unimportant  as  myself." 

So  saying,  Diana  went  downstairs,  followed  by  the 
colonel,  who  gallantly  placed  her  in  the  carriage.  The 
postilion  was  already  mounted. 

"  Road  to  Vitré  !  "  said  Diana. 

The  carriage  started.  The  soldiers  made  way  for  it, 
and  as  every  one  of  them  had  by  this  time  heard  of  the 
manner  in  which  she  had  treated  François  Goulin,  many 
compliments  —  in  rather  coarse  language,  it  is  true,  but 
sincere  —  were  offered  to  her.  As  she  started  she  heard 
the  colonel  call  out  :  — 

"  Chasseurs  and  hussars,  mount  !  " 

Then  from  three  or  four  different  points  the  boot-and* 
saddle  sounded. 


COLONEL    HULOT.  169 

When  the  carriage  reached  the  other  side  of  La  Guerche 
and  was  two  or  three  hundred  feet  beyond  it,  the  postilion 
stopped,  got  off  his  horse,  under  pretence  of  doing  some- 
thing to  the  harness,  and  then  approached  the  carriage 
door. 

"Isn't  it  they  the  citoyenne  wants?"  he  said,  inter- 
rogatively. 

"They?"  echoed  Diana,  astonished. 

The  postilion  winked. 

"  Yes,  they,^^  he  repeated. 

"Whom  do  you  mean?  " 

"Why,  the  friends,  of  course.  They  are  on  both  sides 
of  the  road."     And  he  hooted  like  an  owl. 

"  No,  "  said  Diana,  "  drive  on  ;  but  when  you  get  to  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  stop  the  carriage." 

"All  right!  "  said  the  postilion  to  himself,  as  he 
remounted  his  horse.  "You'll  be  stopped  there,  anyhow, 
my  little  woman." 

They  were  then  at  the  top  of  a  long  and  gently  sloping 
descent,  almost  a  mile  and  a  half  long.  On  either  side  of 
the  road  were  steep  slopes  planted  with  gorse,  broom,  and 
scrub-oak;  in  some  places  these  bushes  were  thick  enough 
to  hide  more  than  one  man. 

The  postilion  put  his  horses  to  their  usual  gait  and  went 
down  the  hill  singing  an  old  Breton  song  in  the  Karnac 
dialect.  From  time  to  time  he  raised  his  voice,  as  if  his 
song  conveyed  some  information  to  persons  near  enough  to 
hear  it.  Diana,  who  fully  understood  that  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  Chouans,  looked  about  her  with  all  her  eyes, 
but  said  not  a  word.  The  postilion  might  be  a  spy  placed 
over  her  by  Goulin,  and  she  did  not  forget  his  threat  of 
what  would  happen  to  her  if  she  fell  into  his  hands. 

No  sooner  had  the  carriage  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
where  a  narrower  road  crossed  the  main-road,  than  a  man 
on  horseback  rode  rapidly  from  the  woods  and  stopped  it. 
Seeing,  however,  that  it  was  occupied  by  a  woman  only, 
he  took  off  his  hat. 


170  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

As  soon  as  the  postilion  caught  sight  of  the  rider  he  lay 
back  from  his  saddle,  so  as  to  get  nearer  to  the  lady,  and 
said,  in  a  low  voice  :  — 

"Don't  be  afraid;  it  is  General  Eound-Head." 

"Madame,"  said  the  rider,  very  politely,  "you  come,  I 
think,  from  La  Guerche,  and  probably  from  Chateau- 
briant?  " 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  said  the  young  woman,  leaning  in- 
quisitively over  the  carriage  door,  but  without  showing 
any  fear,  though  she  saw  in  the  side  road  some  fifty  other 
horsemen. 

"  Would  it  be  consistent  with  your  political  opinions,  or 
your  social  conscience,  to  give  me  certain  details  about  the 
Eepublican  column  that  you  have  left  behind  you?  "  said 
the  man  who  had  stopped  her,  very  courteously. 

"It  is  consistent  with  my  opinions  and  my  sense  of 
social  duty,"  she  replied,  smiling.  "The  column  is  of  six 
thousand  men,  just  returned  from  the  English  and  Dutch 
prisons.  It  is  commanded  by  a  brave  man  named  Colonel 
Hulot.  But  it  drags  in  its  train  a  foul  wretch,  who  goes 
by  the  name  of  François  Goulin,  and  a  vile  machine  they 
call  a  guillotine.  I  had,  on  entering  La  Guerche,  an  alter- 
cation with  François  Goulin,  who  promised  to  make  me 
acquainted  with  his  instrument,  if  I  fell  into  his  hands; 
which  made  me  so  popular  with  the  soldiers  that  Colonel 
Hulot  insisted  on  making  my  acquaintance  and  on  giving 
me  an  escort  to  Vitré,  lest  I  should  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  Chouans  on  the  way.  Now,  as  I  left  Paris  with  the 
special  intention  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Chouans, 
I  refused  the  escort,  telling  the  postilion  to  drive  on;  and 
here  I  am.  General  Cadoudal,  delighted  to  meet  you,  and 
express  my  admiration  for  your  courage  and  the  esteem  I 
feel  for  your  character.  A.s  to  the  escort,  which  was  to 
have  accompanied  me,  it  is  probably  now  starting  from  the 
town,  and  consists  of  about  two  hundred  chasseurs  and 
three  hundred  hussars.  Kill  as  few  of  those  brave  fellows 
as  you  can,  for  my  sake." 


COLONEL   HULOT.  171 

"I  shall  not  conceal  from  yon,  madame,"  said  Cadoudal, 
''that  there  will  be  an  encounter  between  my  troops  and 
this  detachment.  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  continue  on 
your  way  to  Vitré,  where  I  will  follow  you,  as  soon  as  the 
light  is  over;  for  I  am  desirous  of  knowing  more  distinctly 
the  motives  of  a  journey  for  which  you  have  given  me  a 
highly  improbable  reason." 

"And  yet  it  is  the  real  one,"  replied  Diana;  "and  the 
proof  is  that,  with  your  permission,  I  would  rather  stay 
here  during  the  iight.  As  I  have  come  to  join  your  army, 
it  will  be  in  a  manner  my  apprenticeship." 

Cadoudal  cast  his  eyes  on  the  little  column,  which  could 
now  be  seen  advancing  over  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  he 
said  to  the  postilion  :  — 

"  Place  madame  where  she  runs  no  risk  of  any  danger  ; 
and  if,  by  chance,  we  are  defeated,  explain  to  the  Blues 
that  I  prevented  her,  to  her  great  distress,  from  continu- 
ing her  journey."  Then,  bowing  to  Diana,  he  added, 
"  Madame,  pray  to  God  for  the  good  cause  ;  I  am  now  to 
fight  for  it." 

He  jumped  his  horse  back  into  the  cross-road,  and 
rejoined  his  companions  in  their  ambush. 


172  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXIII. 


THE    FIGHT. 


Cadoudal  exchanged  a  few  words  with  his  companions, 
and  four  of  them  who  were  unmounted,  being  those  of  his 
staff  detailed  to  carry  orders  among  the  gorse  and  thickets, 
slipped  away  at  once  and  soon  reached,  through  the  under- 
brush, two  enormous  oaks,  whose  vigorous  branches  and 
abundant  foliage  formed  a  rampart  against  the  sun.  These 
oaks  stood  at  the  extremity  of  the  sort  of  avenue  formed 
by  the  high-road  as  it  came  from  the  town  between  the 
slopes  on  either  side  of  the  gorge,  and  met  the  cross-road. 
Once  there,  the  messengers  held  themselves  ready  to  exe- 
cute a  manœuvre,  which  those  who  did  not  know  the 
general's  plan  of  operations  might  have  tried  in  vain  to 
understand. 

Diana's  carriage  had  been  turned  from  the  high-road  into 
the  cross-road,  and  she  was  standing  at  a  distance  of  s. 
hundred  feet,  at  the  top  of  an  eminence  covered  with  trees, 
among  which  she  was  hidden  so  that  she  herself  could  see 
all  and  not  be  noticed. 

The  chasseurs  and  the  hussars  were  advancing  at  a  walk, 
and  cautiously;  an  advance-guard  of  ten  men  preceded 
them,  marching,  like  the  rest,  with  extreme  caution. 
When  those  who  had  issued  last  from  the  village  appeared, 
a  shot  was  fired,  and  one  of  the  rear  guard  fell. 

This  was  the  signal.  Instantly  the  two  crests  of  the 
ravine  belched  fire.  The  Blues  looked  in  vain  for  the 
enemy  which  attacked  them.  They  saw  the  fire,  the  smoke  ; 
they  felt  the  result;  but  they  were  unable  to  distinguish 
either  men  or  weapons.  A  species  of  disorder  now  showed 
itself  among  those  who  were  thus  compelled  to  continue 


THE   FIGHT.  173 

their  way  through  an  invisible  danger.  They  all  endeav- 
ored, not  so  much  to  escape  death,  but  to  deal  death  to 
others.  Some  returned  upon  their  steps,  otTiers  attempted 
to  force  their  horses  up  tlie  slopes;  but  no  sooner  had  their 
shoulders  appeared  above  the  crests  than  they  were  shot 
full  in  the  breast,  and  falling  back,  they  carried  their 
horses  with  them,  like  those  Amazons  of  Rubens  at  the 
battle  of  Thermodon. 

Others  —  and  these  were  the  greater  number  —  pushed 
forward,  hoping  to  get  past  the  ambuscade,  and  escape  the 
trap  they  had  fallen  into.  But  Cadoudal,  who  seemed  to 
have  foreseen  this  moment  and  to  have  waited  for  it,  no 
sooner  saw  them  put  their  horses  at  a  gallop  than  he  set 
spurs  to  his  own  horse,  and,  followed  by  his  forty  men, 
darted  through  the  cross-road  to  meet  them. 

The  fight  was  then  all  along  the  line.  Those  who  had 
turned  back  found  their  way  barred  by  Chouans,  who  fired 
almost  in  their  faces,  and  compelled  them  to  fall  back. 
Those  who  tried  to  scale  the  slope  found  death  at  the  sum- 
mit, and  rolling  back  to  the  road,  their  bodies  and  those 
of  their  horses  obstructed  the  way.  And,  finally,  those 
who  had  eagerly  pushed  forward  were  confronted  by 
Cadoudal  and  his  men. 

After  a  struggle  of  a  few  moments,  the  latter  had  seemed 
to  give  way.  The  cavalry  of  the  Blues  began  to  pursue 
them  ;  but  hardly  had  the  last  Chouan  passed  the  two  oaks 
guarded  by  the  four  men,  than  the  latter  pressed  with  all 
their  might  upon  the  trees,  already  sawn  through  their 
trunks,  so  that  they  fell  with  a  great  noise  toward  each 
other  and  across  the  road,  their  tangled  branches  making 
an  absolutely  insurmountable  barrier.  The  Blues  were 
following  the  Whites  so  closely  that  two  of  their  number 
were  crushed,  together  with  their  horses,  by  the  falling 
trees. 

The  same  manoeuvre  was  performed  at  the  other  end  of 
the  gorge.  Two  trees,  overthrown  in  the  same  way,  formed 
a  barricade  precisely  similar  to  that  which  now  closed  the 


174  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

other  extremity  of  the  road.  Horses  and  men  were  caught 
in  a  vast  circus,  and  every  Chouan  on  the  slopes  above 
could  pick  out  his  man  and  bring  him  down  with  absolute 
certainty. 

Cadoudal  and  his  forty  horsemen  had  dismounted,  and, 
musket  in  hand,  were  preparing  to  take  part  in  the  com- 
bat, when  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  who  had  followed  this 
l)loody  drama  with  all  the  eagerness  of  her  leonine  nature, 
suddenly  heard  the  gallop  of  a  horse  coming  along  the  road 
from  Vitré.  She  turned  hastily,  and  beheld  the  traveller 
with  whom  she  had  journeyed  from  Paris.  Seeing  that 
Cadoudal  and  his  companions  were  about  to  plunge  into 
the  fight,  the  rider  cried  out,  "Stop!  stop!  wait  for  me!  " 

iSTo  sooner  had  he  joined  them,  amid  cries  and  acclama- 
tions of  welcome,  than  he  jumped  off  his  horse,  which  he 
gave  in  charge  of  a  Chouan,  flung  his  arms  round  Cadoudal 
and  embraced  him,  seized  a  musket,  filled  his  pockets  with 
cartridges,  and  followed  by  twenty  men,  Cadoudal  taking 
the  other  twenty,  sprang  into  the  thicket  to  the  left  of  the 
road,  while  the  general  and  his  companions  disappeared 
into  that  on  the  right. 

Fresh  volleys  of  musketry  presently  showed  that  the 
Whites   were  reinforced. 

jMademoiselle  de  Fargas  was  too  deeply  preoccupied  by 
what  was  passing  before  her  to  give  a  reason  to  her  own 
mind  for  M.  d'Argentan's  behavior.  She  merely  recog- 
nized the  fact  that  the  pretended  receiver  of  taxes  at 
Dinan  was  a  royalist  in  disguise;  which  explained  to  her 
why  he  brought  money  from  Paris  to  Brittany  instead  of 
sending  it  from  Brittany  to  Paris. 

The  heroic  efforts  that  were  now  made  by  that  little 
band  of  five  hundred  hemmed-in  men  would  have  sufficed 
for  a  poem  of  chivalry.  Their  courage  was  all  the  greater 
because  each  man  faced  a  danger  which  was,  as  we  have 
said,  invisible;  he  called  to  it,  defied  it,  roaring  with 
anger  at  not  being  able  to  bring  it  visibly  before  him. 
Nothing  could  compel  the  Chouans  to  change  their  homici- 


THE   FIGHT.  175 

dal  tactics.  Death  flew  whistling  through  the  air;  but  the 
smoke  of  it  alone  was  seen,  the  detonation  was  all  that 
could  be  heard.  A  trooper  would  fling  out  his  arms  and 
fall  from  his  horse,  the  frightened  animal  rushing  wildly 
up  the  slope,  until  some  invisible  hand  would  catch  him 
and  fasten  him  to  the  branch  of  a  tree.  Here  and  there, 
along  the  plain,  some  of  these  horses  could  be  seen  stiffen- 
ing their  legs  and  dragging  back  on  their  bridles,  struggling 
to  escape  from  the  unknown  masters  who  had  captured 
them. 

The  butchery  lasted  an  hour.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
a  drum-corps  was  heard,  beating  the  charge.  It  was  the 
Kepublican  infantry  coming  to  the  relief  of  the  cavalry, 
led  by  Colonel  Hulot  in  person. 

His  first  care  was  to  take  notice  of  the  localities,  with 
the  unerring  glance  of  a  veteran,  and  seek  to  open  an  issue 
for  the  unfortunate  men  who  were  hemmed  into  the  sort  of 
tunnel  made  of  the  main  road.  He  took  the  horses  from 
his  guns,  artillery  being  of  no  use  to  him  in  this  sort  of 
struggle.  He  ordered  their  traces  to  be  fastened  to  the 
upper  branches  of  the  fallen  trees,  which  were  then 
dragged  from  their  transverse  positions  to  the  sides  of  the 
road,  thus  opening,  at  any  rate,  a  way  of  retreat  for  the 
cavalry.  Next,  he  sent  five  hundred  men  on  each  side  of 
the  road  with  fixed  bayonets,  as  though  the  enemy  were 
actually  in  sight.  It  was  his  only  means  of  replying  to 
the  musketry  of  the  Whites,  who,  firing  only  under  shel- 
ter, never  delivered  their  fire  without  deliberately  taking 
aim.  Practice,  and,  above  all,  the  necessity  of  defence  had 
made  the  Blues  exceedingly  alert  in  returning  this  fire. 

Sometimes  the  man  on  whom  they  retaliated  was  shot 
dead;  sometimes  he  was  only  wounded.  When  that  was  the 
case  he  lay  still,  and  his  enemies  might  pass  close  beside 
him  without  seeing  him.  The  Chouans  were  noted  for 
their  marvellous  courage  in  stifling  moans,  which  the  in- 
tolerable suffering  of  their  wounds  would  have  drawn  from 
other  soldiers. 


176  THE   FIKST    REPUBLIC. 

The  fight  lasted  thus  until  the  shadows  of  night  began 
to  fall.  Diana,  who  lost  not  a  single  feature  of  the  strug- 
gle, quivered  with  impatience  at  not  being  able  to  take 
part  in  it.  She  longed  for  a  man's  coat  and  a  musket  in 
her  hand,  that  she  might  fling  herself  upon  those  Republi- 
cans, whom  she  hated.  But  here  she  was,  chained  down 
by  her  clothes  and  the  want  of  a  weapon. 

Toward  seven  o'clock  Colonel  Hulot  ordered  the  retreat 
to  be  sounded.  Daylight  was  dangerous  enough  in  such  a 
struggle  ;  but  darkness  was  worse,  —  it  was  deadly  !  The 
sound  of  the  drums  and  trumpets  beating  the  retreat 
renewed  the  ardor  of  the  Chouans.  To  evacuate  the 
field  and  retreat  to  the  village  was  to  own  themselves 
vanquished. 

The  Republicans  were  followed  by  volleys  of  musketry 
to  the  very  entrance  of  La  Guerche,  leaving  three  or  four 
hundred  dead  upon  the  field.  They  were  quite  ignorant 
as  to  the  amount  of  loss  they  had  inflicted  on  the  Chouans, 
and  they  did  not  bring  back  a  single  prisoner,  —  to  Fran- 
çois Goulin's  great  disgust,  he  having  got  his  machine 
through  the  village,  and  erected  at  the  other  extremity,  as 
near  the  field  of  battle  as  he  could.  All  these  preparations 
proved  useless,  and  François  Goulin  in  despair  took  up  his 
abode  in  a  house,  from  which  he  could  keep  his  precious 
instrument  perpetually  in  sight. 

Since  the  detachment  had  left  Paris,  not  a  single  officer 
or  soldier  had  been  willing  to  lodge  in  the  same  house  as 
the  Republican  commissioner.  He  was  given  a  guard  of 
twelve  soldiers,  and  that  was  all.  Four  of  his  own  men 
took  care  of  the  guillotine. 


POETIA.  177 


XXIV. 


PORTIA. 


The  day  had  not  given  Cadoudal  and  his  troops  any- 
important  material  advantage,  but  the  moral  result  was 
immense. 

The  great  Vendean  leaders  had  all  disappeared.  Stofl8et 
was  dead;  Charette  was  dead.  The  Abbé  Bernier  himself 
had  given  in  his  submission,  as  we  have  already  related  in 
"The  Company  of  Jehu."  Thanks  to  the  genius  and  the 
nerve  of  General  Hoche,  La  Vendée  was  pacificated;  and 
we  have  seen  how  Hoche,  offering  men  and  money  to  the 
Directory,  had  made  Bonaparte  uneasy  in  the  heart  of 
Italy. 

Of  La  Vendée  and  Chouannerie,  Chouannerie  alone 
remained.  Sole  among  their  leaders,  Cadoudal  had  steadily 
refused  to  make  submission.  He  had  published  his  mani- 
festo, he  had  announced  his  resumption  of  hostilities  ;  and 
besides  the  Republican  troops  that  still  remained  scattered 
in  Brittany  and  La  Vendée,  six  thousand  men  were  now 
sent  as  reinforcements  against  him. 

Cadoudal,  with  his  thousand  men,  not  only  held  his 
own  against  six  thousand  old  soldiers  trained  to  war  by 
six  years'  warfare,  but  he  had  driven  them  back  into  the 
town  from  which  they  wished  to  issue,  and  he  had  also 
killed  three  or  four  hundred  of  their  men.  The  new 
insurrection  —  the  Breton  insurrection  —  had  therefore 
been  inaugurated  by  a  victory. 

As  soon  as  the  Blues  were  fairly  in  the  town,  Cadoudal, 
who  had  another  expedition  in  his  mind  for  the  night, 
recalled  his  men.     They  could  now  be  seen  through  the 

VOL.   II.  —  12 


178  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

gorse  and  broom,  above  which  their  heads  and  shoulders 
rose,  marching  gayly  back  as  victors,  calling  to  one  an- 
other, and  crowding  behind  one  of  their  number  who  was 
playing  a  bagpipe,  as  regular  soldiers  march  behind  their 
bugles.     The  bagpipe  was  their  bugle. 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  long  descent,  where  the  over- 
turned trees  formed  a  barricade  which  the  Republican 
cavalry  had  found  insurmountable,  the  spot  where  Cadoudal 
and  d'Argentan  had  parted  to  follow  the  fight,  the  two 
Chouan  leaders  now  met  again.  D'Argentan,  Avho  had  not 
fought  for  some  time,  went  into  the  affray  with  such  good- 
will that  he  soon  won  a  bayonet  thrust  through  his  arm. 
Consequently,  he  had  thrown  his  coat  over  his  shoulders, 
and  was  carrying  his  arm  in  a  sling  made  with  his  bloody 
handkerchief. 

Diana  had  come  down  from  her  eminence,  and  was  walk- 
ing with  her  firm  and  masculine  step  toward  the  two 
men. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Cadoudal,  perceiving  her  ;  "  so  you  stayed 
here,   my  brave  Amazon?" 

D'Argentan  gave  a  cry  of  surprise.  He  recognized 
Mademoiselle  Rotrou,   post-mistress  at  Vitré. 

"  Allow  me,"  continued  Cadoudal,  still  speaking  to  Diana, 
and  motioning  toward  his  companion,  "to  present  to  you 
one  of  my  best  friends." 

"M.  d'Argentan?"  said  Diana,  smiling;  "I  have  the 
honor  of  knowing  him.  He  is  an  old  acquaintance,  of 
three  days'  standing.  We  made  the  journey  together  from 
Paris." 

"He  ought,  therefore,  to  present  me  to  you,  mademoi- 
selle, if  I  had  not  already  done  so  myself."  Then  he 
added,  addressing  himself  particularly  to  Diana,  "Are  you 
going  to  Vitré,  mademoiselle?" 

"M.  d'Argentan,"  said  Diana,  not  replying  to  Cadoudal, 
"you  offered  to  be  my  intermediary  with  General  Cadoudal, 
if  I  should  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  him." 

"I  then  supposed,  madame,  that  you  did  not  know  the 


PORTIA.  179 

general.  But,  once  seen,  you  cannot  need  an  intermediary; 
and  1  will  answer  for  it  that  all  you  ask  of  him  will  be 
granted." 

"That  is  only  gallantry,  monsieur,  and  a  method  of 
escaping  your  obligations.  I  summon  you  positively  to 
keep  your  word." 

"Make  your  request,  madame,  and  I  will  urge  it  on  the 
general  with  all  my  power,"  said  d'Argentan. 

"I  wish  to  form  part  of  the  general's  corps,"  said  Diana, 
coolly. 

"In  what  position?"  asked  d'Argentan. 

"That  of  volunteer." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other. 

"You  hear  that,  Cadoudal?"  said  d'Argentan. 

Cadoudal's  forehead  darkened,  and  his  face  took  a  stern 
expression.     After  a  moment's  silence,  he  said:  — 

"  Madame,  your  proposal  is  a  serious  one,  and  demands 
reflection.  I  shall  tell  you  a  singular  thing.  I  was 
brought  up  to  the  priesthood,  and  I  have  taken,  in  my 
heart,  at  least,  all  the  vows  which  we  make  on  entering 
holy  orders,  and  I  have  failed  in  none.  You  would  be, 
I  have  no  doubt,  a  charming  aide-de-camp,  courageous 
under  all  trials,  —  for  I  think  women  are  as  brave  as  men  ; 
but  in  these  pious  regions,  more  especially  in  this  old 
Brittany  of  ours,  there  are  prejudices  which  would  oppose 
such  devotion.  Several  of  my  associates  have  had  in  their 
camps  the  sisters  or  daughters  of  murdered  royalists. 
That  is  a  different  thing;  to  those  women  we  owed  the 
shelter  and  protection  they  asked  of  us." 

"And  who  told  you,  monsieur,  that  I  have  no  such 
claim,"  cried  Diana,  —  "that  I  am  not  the  daughter  or 
sister  of  murdered  royalists, — both  perhaps?  for  I  may 
have  the  double  right  you  speak  of  to  be  received  here." 

"In  that  case,"  said  d'Argentan,  mingling  in  the  con- 
versation, with  a  caustic  smile,  "may  I  ask  why  it  is  that 
you  are  using  a  passport  signed  by  Barras,  as  the  titular 
post-mistress  of  Vitré?" 


180  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

"Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  show  me  your  passport, 
Monsieur  d'Argentan?  "  said  Diana. 

D'Argentan  laughed,  and  taking  a  paper  from  the  pocket 
of  the  coat  that  hung  over  his  shoulder,  he  presented  it  to 
Diana.     The  girl  unfolded  it  and  read  :  — 

Allow   the   citizen    Sébastien   d'Argentan,    receiver   of    taxes   at 
Argentan,  to  circulate  freely  through  tlie  territory  of  the  Republic. 
Signed,  Barras, 

Rewbell, 
La  Revellière-Lepeaux. 

"And  now,  monsieur,"  said  Diana,  "may  I  ask  why  it 
is  that  you,  the  friend  of  General  Cadoudal,  and  in  arms 
against  the  Republic,  have  a  right  to  circulate  freely 
through  the  Republic,  as  the  tax-receiver  of  Dinan?  We 
had  better  not  lift  our  masks,  monsieur,  but  take  them  off 
altogether." 

"Faith!  that's  well  said,"  cried  Cadoudal,  who  was 
now  immensely  interested  by  Diana's  coolness  and  persist- 
ency. "Come,  how  did  you  get  that  passport?  Explain 
it  all  to  mademoiselle;  and  then,  perhaps,  she  will  deign 
to  explain  how  she  comes  by  hers." 

"Ah!  but  that's  a  secret  I  can't  explain  before  our 
prulish  friend  Cadoudal,"  said  d'Argentan,  laughing; 
"and  yet,  if  you  insist  upon  it,  mademoiselle,  I  will  tell 
you  that  there  lives  in  Paris,  in  the  rue  des  Colonnes, 
close  to  the  Theatre  Feydeau,  a  certain  Demoiselle  Aurelie 
Saint- Amour,  to  whom  the  citizen  Barras  refuses  nothing, 
and  who,  in  turn,  refuses  nothing  to  me." 

"Besides,"  said  Cadoudal,  "the  name  of  d'Argentan  on 
the  passport  conceals  a  name  which  in  itself  is  a  pass 
through  all  troops  —  Vendeans,  Chouans,  or  royalists  of 
any  kind  —  wearing  the  white  cockade,  either  in  France  or 
in  foreign  parts.  Your  travelling  companion,  mademoiselle, 
has  nothing  to  hide  now,  having  nothing  to  fear;  and  I 
therefore  present  him  to  you  under  his  real  name,  —  not 
d'Argentan,  but  Coster  de    Saint-Victor,    who  has   given 


PORTIA.  181 

pledges  enough  of  devotion  to  our  sacred  cause  not  to  need 
the  wound  he  has  just  received  —  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Diana,  coldly  ;  "  a  wound  is  an  easy  way  to 
prove  devotion." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  asked  Cadoudal. 

"See!  "  she  replied. 

Taking  from  her  belt  the  sharp  iron  dagger  which  had 
killed  her  brother,  she  struck  her  arm  with  such  violence, 
at  the  very  place  where  Saint-Victor  had  received  his 
wound,  that  the  blade  entering  on  one  side  of  the  arm 
came  out  on  the  other. 

"  As  for  his  name,  "  she  added,  addressing  the  astonished 
young  men,  "  if  he  is  Coster  de  Saint-Victor,  I  am  Diana 
de  Fargas.  My  father  was  murdered  four  years  ago,  and 
my  brother  last  week." 

Coster  de  Saint-Victor  shuddered.  He  cast  a  glance  at 
the  iron  hilt  of  the  dagger,  which  was  still  buried  in  the 
young  girl's  arm,  and  recognized  it  as  the  one  with  which 
Lucien  de  Fargas  had  been  stabbed  in  his  presence. 

"I  am  witness,"  he  said,  gravely,  "and  I  affirm  that  this 
young  girl  has  told  the  truth,  in  saying  that  she  deserves, 
as  much  as  any  daughter  or  sister  of  murdered  royalists, 
to  be  received  among  us,  and  to  be  a  part  of  our  sacred 
array." 

Cadoudal  stretched  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"From  this  moment,  mademoiselle,  I  will  be  a  father  to 
you,  since  you  have  no  father;  if  you  have  no  brother,  be 
my  sister.  I  remember  that  Roman  matron  who,  to  reas- 
sure her  husband  when  he  feared  her  weakness,  stabbed 
her  right  arm  with  the  blade  of  a  knife.  As  we  live  in  a 
period  when  we  are  all  obliged  to  conceal  our  real  names 
under  other  names,  you  shall  be  called,  instead  of  Diana 
de  Fargas,  Portia.  As  you  are  now  one  of  us,  mademoi- 
selle, and  have  won  your  rank  at  your  first  blow,  T  invite 
you  to  be  present  at  the  council  I  am  about  to  hold,  as 
soon  as  the  surgeon  has  dressed  your  wound. 

"Thank  you,  general,"  said  Diana.     "As  for  the  sur- 


182  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

geon,  I  do  not  need  him  any  more  than  M.  Coster  de 
Saint- Victor  needs  him.  My  wound  is  no  worse  than 
his." 

Drawing  the  dagger  from  her  arm,  where  it  still  remained, 
she  tore  her  sleeve  open  to  its  full  length,  displaying  her 
beautiful  white  arm.  Then,  addressing  Saint-Victor,  she 
said,  laughing  :  — 

"Comrade,  be  kind  enough  to  lend  me  your  cravat." 


cadoudal's  idea.  183 


XXV. 

cadoudal's  idea. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  Chouans  were  bivouacking  in  a 
circle  round  the  town  of  La  Guerche,  in  groups  of  ten, 
fifteen,  or  twenty,  with  a  fire  to  each  group,  and  were 
cooking  their  suppers  as  tranquilly  as  if  no  shots  had  been 
fired  that  day  from  Redon  to  Cancale. 

The  cavalry  formed  a  separate  body,  their  horses  sad- 
dled, but  the  bridles  off,  so  that  animals  as  well  as  men 
might  get  their  evening  meal  along  the  banks  of  a  little 
rivulet  which  forms  one  of  the  sources  of  the  Seiche. 

About  the  centre  of  the  encampment,  under  an  enormous 
oak,  were  Cadoudal,  Saint-Victor,  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas, 
and  five  or  six  of  the  principal  Chouans,  who  under  the 
pseudonyms  of  Cœur-de-roi,  Tiffauges,  Brise-Bleu,  Béné- 
dicité, Branche-d'Or,  Monte-à-l'assaut,  and  Chante-en- 
hiver,  deserve  to  have  their  adopted  names  go  down  to 
posterity  with  that  of  their  famous  chief. 

Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  and  Coster  de  Saint- Victor  were 
eating  with  a  good  appetite,  each  using  the  one  hand  which 
was  still  available.  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  had  wished 
to  put  her  six  thousand  francs  into  the  common  fund,  but 
Cadoudal  refused  to  allow  it,  and  took  her  money  only  on 
deposit. 

The  six  or  seven  Chouan  leaders  whom  we  have  named 
were  eating  as  if  not  sure  of  their  next  meal.  The  Whites, 
however,  did  not  suffer  the  same  privations  as  the  Blues; 
for  the  latter  had  only  forced  requisitions  to  depend  on. 
The  "Whites,  who  had  the  sympathy  of  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  region,  paid  for  what  they  took,  and  provisions  were 
therefore  brought  to  them  in  comparative  abundance. 


184  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

As  for  Cadoudal,  preoccupied  with  a  thought  which 
seemed  to  hold  him  body  and  soul,  he  went  and  came 
silently,  taking  no  food  or  refreshment  except  a  glass  of 
water,  his  usual  drink.  He  had  made  Mademoiselle  de 
Eargas  give  him  all  the  information  she  could  as  to  Fran- 
çois Goulin  and  his  guillotine.  Suddenly  he  stopped  short 
and  turned  to  the  group  of  Breton  leaders. 

"Who  will  volunteer,"  he  said,  "to  go  into  La  Guerche 
and  get  certain  information  for  me?" 

Every  man  rose  spontaneously. 

"General,"  said  Chante-en-hiver,  "I  think  lam,  with- 
out doing  any  injustice  to  my  comrades,  the  proper  person 
to  do  your  errand.  My  brother  lives  in  La  Guerche.  As 
soon  as  it  is  dark  I  will  go  to  his  house;  if  they  stop  me, 
I  shall  refer  to  him,  and  he  will  answer  for  me,  and  that 
will  be  enough.  He  knows  the  town  as  he  knows  his  own 
pocket.  Whatever  there  is  to  do  he  and  I  can  do,  and  I  '11 
bring  you  your  information  within  an  hour." 

"So  be  it,"  said  Cadoudal.  "Here  is  my  plan.  You 
know  that  the  Blues,  in  order  to  strike  terror  into  our 
hearts,  have  brought  their  guillotine  with  them,  which 
that  infamous  Goulin  operates.  François  Goulin,  you  will 
remember,  is  the  wretch  who  drowned  the  people  at  Nantes. 
He  and  Perdraux  were  Carrier's  executioners.  Those  two 
men  boast  of  having  drowned  more  than  eight  hundred 
priests,  alone,  with  their  own  hands.  Well,  this  man 
Goulin  went  to  Paris  and  demanded,  not  immunity,  but . 
reward  for  his  crimes.  Providence  sends  him  back  to  us 
that  he  may  expiate  them  here  where  he  committed  them. 
He  has  brought  his  infamous  guillotine  among  us,  and  he 
shall  perish  by  the  filthy  instrument  he  brings  ;  he  is  not 
worthy  of  a  soldier's  ball.  Now  we  must  seize  him  and 
seize  his  instrument,  and  bring  them  to  some  place  where 
we  are  masters,  so  that  no  hindrance  may  be  offered  to  the 
execution.  Chante-en-hiver  will  go  into  La  Guerche;  he 
will  bring  us  all  information  about  the  house  where 
Goulin  lodges,  and  also  about  the  position  of  the  guillo- 


cadoudal's  idea.  185 

tine  and  the  number  of  men  who  are  guarding  it.  This 
information  obtained,  I  have  my  plan,  which  I  will  then 
tell  you;  and,  with  your  consent,  we  will  put  it  into 
execution  this  very  night." 

The  leaders  applauded  eagerly. 

"  By  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Saint- Victor,  "  I  never  saw 
a  man  guillotined,  and  I  swore  I  would  never  have  to  do 
with  that  abominable  machine  until  I  mounted  it  myself. 
But  the  day  on  which  we  shorten  Master  François  Goulin 
will  find  me  in  the  front  rank  of  the  spectators." 

"  You  heard  my  words,  Chante-en-hiver?  "  said  Cadoudal. 

Chaute-en-hiver  did  not  need  to  be  told  twice.  He  laid 
down  his  arms,  with  the  exception  of  his  knife,  from 
which  he  never  parted.  Then,  asking  Saint-Victor  to 
look  at  his  watch,  and  finding  it  was  half-past  eight,  he 
promised  to  be  back  by  ten.  Five  minutes  later  he  had 
disappeared. 

"Now,"  said  Cadoudal,  addressing  the  other  chiefs, 
"  how  many  horses  did  we  capture  on  the  field,  with  their 
saddles  and  accoutrements?" 

"  Twenty-one,  general,  "  replied  Cœur-de-roi.  "  I  counted 
them." 

"  Could  we  get  twenty  uniforms  of  chasseurs  or  hussars, 
all  in  good  order?  " 

"  General,  there  are  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  horsemen 
dead  on  the  road;  we  have  only  to  choose,"  said  Branche 
d'Or. 

"  I  want  twenty  hussar  uniforms,  one  of  which  must  be 
that  of  a  sergeant-major,  or  a  sub-lieutenant." 

Branche  d'Or  rose,  whistled,  collected  a  dozen  men,  and 
departed  with  them. 

"An  idea  has  just  popped  into  my  head,"  said  Saint- 
Victor.     "Is  there  a  printing-office  at  Vitré?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Cadoudal,  "they  printed  my  manifesto 
there  last  week.  The  head  of  it  is  a  worthy  man  who  is 
devoted  to  us.     His  name  is  Borel." 

"I  have  a  great  mind,"  said  Saint-Victor,  "inasmuch  as 


186  THE   FIEST   EEPUBLIC. 

1  have  nothing  to  do,  to  get  into  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas*s 
carriage  and  go  to  Vitré  and  order  invitations  printed  for 
the  six  thousand  Blues  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  La 
Guerche  to  be  present  at  the  execution  of  their  executioner 
by  his  own  instrument.  It  would  be  a  good  joke  and  make 
all  our  people  in  Paris  laugh." 

"Then  do  it,  Coster,"  said  Cadoudal,  gravely.  "We 
can't  give  too  much  publicity  and  ceremony  to  an  act  in 
which  God  does  justice." 

"Forward,  d'Argentan!  "  cried  Saint-Victor;  "only, 
some  one  must  lend  me  a  jacket." 

Cadoudal  made  a  sign,  and  all  the  leaders  began  to  take 
off  theirs. 

"If  the  execution  takes  place,"  asked  Saint-Victor, 
"where  will  it  be?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Cadoudal,  "  not  a  thousand  feet  from  where 
we  are  now,  —  at  the  top  of  that  hill  you  see  before  us." 

"Very  good!"  said  Saint-Victor.  Then  calling  to  the 
postilion,  he  said,  laughing,  "M}^  good  friend,  as  it  may 
come  into  your  head  to  object  to  what  I  am  going  to  do,  I 
begin  by  telling  you  that  all  objections  are  useless.  Your 
horses  have  rested  and  are  fed.  You  can't  get  back  to  La 
Guerche,  because  the  road  is  blocked;  and  you  will  there- 
fore drive  me  to  Vitré,  to  the  printing-office  of  Monsieur 
Borel.  If  you  come  yourself  you  shall  have  two  crowns 
of  six  francs  each,  — not  assignats,  but  solid  coin;  if  you 
don't  choose  to  come  yourself,  one  of  those  men  over  there 
will  drive  me,  and  will,  naturally,  get  the  twelve  francs." 

"I'll  go,"  said  the  postilion,  without  pausing  to  con- 
sider the  matter. 

"Very  good,"  said  Coster;  "and  as  you  show  such  good- 
will, there  's  a  crown  in  advance." 

Five  minutes  later  the  horses  were  in,  and  Saint-Victor 
started  for  Vitré. 

"And  now,"  said  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas,  "as  T  have 
nothing  to  do  in  all  these  preparations,  I  shall,  with  your 
permission,  take  some  rest.  I  have  not  really  slept  for 
iive  days  and  nights." 


cadoudal's  idea.  187 

Cadoudal  threw  his  cloak  on  the  ground,  and  on  it  six  or 
eight  sheepskins  ;  a  portemanteau  served  for  a  pillow.  And 
thus  supplied  Mademoiselle  de  Fargas  passed  her  first 
night  in  camp,  and  began  her  apprenticeship  at  civil  war. 

As  ten  o'clock  sounded  from  the  steeples  of  La  Guerche 
Cadoudal  was  awakened  by  a  voice  at  his  ear  :  — 

"Here  lam!" 

It  was  Chante-ea-hiver,  faithful  to  his  word.  He  had 
all  the  required  information  ;  that  is,  he  told  Cadoudal  all 
that  we  already  know.  Goulin  lodged  in  the  last  house  in 
La  Guerche.  Twelve  soldiers,  sleeping  on  the  ground- 
floor,  were  detailed  to  him  as  his  personal  guard.  The 
horses  which  dragged  the  machine  were  in  the  stable  of 
the  same  house. 

At  half-past  ten  Branche-d'Or  returned  from  his  errand. 
He  had  stripped  twenty  dead  hussars,  and  brought  with 
him  their  complete  equipment. 

"Pick  out  twenty  men,"  said  Cadoudal,  "who  can  get 
into  those  clothes  and  not  look  as  if  they  wore  them  for  a 
disguise.  Take  command  of  them  yourself;  I  presume  you 
have  taken  care,  as  I  told  you,  to  bring  in  the  uniform  of 
a  sergeant-major,  or  a  sub-lieutenant?  " 

"Yes,  general." 

"Put  it  on,  and  take  command  of  those  twenty  men. 
Follow  the  road  to  Château- G  iron,  so  that  you  can  enter 
La  Guerche  on  the  other  side  of  the  town.  When  the 
sentry  challenges,  advance  and  say  you  come  from  Kennes 
and  are  sent  by  General  Hedouville.  Ask  for  Colonel 
Hulot's  residence;  they'll  point  it  out  to  you.  Don't  go 
near  it.  Chante-en-hiver,  who  will  be  your  second,  knows 
the  town,  and  will  pilot  you,  if  you  don't  know  the  way." 

"I  do  know  it,  general,"  replied  Branched-'Or.  "But 
no  matter  for  that;  a  good  gars  like  Chante-en-hiver  is 
never  amiss." 

"Go  straight  to  Goulin's  house.  Thanks  to  your  uni- 
forms, you  won't  have  any  difficulty.  While  two  men  talk 
to  the  sentry,  the  eighteen  others  can  overpower  the  twelve 


188  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

guards  inside  the  house.  With  your  sabres  at  their  breasts, 
make  them  swear  not  to  interfere.  If  they  swear,  you 
needn't  be  uneasy;  they  '11  keep  their  word.  As  for  the 
sentry,  you  see  the  importance  of  not  allowing  him  to  call 
to  arms.  He  must  either  surrender  or  be  killed.  During 
this  time  Chante-eu -hiver  can  get  out  the  horses  and  har- 
ness them  to  the  machine.  As  it  stands  in  the  road  you  '11 
only  have  to  drive  it  straight  out  here  and  meet  us.  The 
moment  the  Blues  give  you  their  word  not  to  interfere, 
tell  them  what  you  have  come  for.  I  am  perfectly  con- 
vinced there  is  not  one  of  them  who  would  risk  his  life  for 
François  Goulin;  on  the  contrary,  some  of  them,  at  least, 
will  give  you  good  advice.  For  instance,  Chante-en-hiver 
has  forgotten  to  ask  where  Goulon's  executioner  lives, 
probably  because  I  forgot  myself  to  tell  him  to  do  so. 
Now,  as  I  suppose  none  of  you  would  want  to  do  that 
man's  work,  his  presence  is  indispensable  to  us.  I  leave 
the  rest  to  your  own  intelligence.  The  stroke  must  be 
played  about  three  in  the  morning.  At  two,  we  shall  be 
stationed  just  where  we  were  yesterday.  If  you  succeed, 
send  up  a  rocket  to  let  us  know  it." 

Branche-d'Or  and  Chante-en-hiver  exchanged  a  few 
words  in  a  low  voice.  One  seemed  to  argue,  and  the  other 
to  object;  finall}^  they  came  to  an  agreement,  and  turning 
to  Cadoudal,  they  said  :  — 

"All  right,  general;  it  shall  all  be  done  to  your 
satisfaction." 


THE  ROAD  TO  THE  SCAFFOLD.  189 


XXVI. 

THE    ROAD    TO    THE    SCAFFOLD. 

About  two  in  the  morning  carriage-wheels  were  heard. 
It  was  Coster  de  Saint-Victor  returning  with  his  invita- 
tions. So  certain  was  he  of  the  success  of  Cadoudal's  plan 
that  he  had  left  two  hundred  copies  with  the  printer  at 
Vitré,  telling  him  to  distribute  them  in  the  town. 
The  notices  were  thus  worded .  — 

You  are  invited  to  assist  at  the  execution  of  François  Goulin, 
special  commissioner  of  the  Republic.  He  will  be  executed  to-mor- 
row, by  his  own  guillotine,  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  on  the  high-road  between  Vitré  and  La  Guerche,  at  the 
spot  called  Moutiers. 

General  Cadoudal,  by  whose  order  this  execution  will  take  place, 
offers  safe  conduct  to  all  who  wish  to  be  present  at  this  act  of  justice. 
From  the  camp  at  La  Guerche. 

Georges  Cadoudal. 

As  he  passed  through  Étrelles,  Saint-Germain  du  Pinel, 
and  Moutiers,  Coster  waked  up  several  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  gave  them  copies  of  the  invitation,  charging  them  to 
let  their  friends  know  in  the  morning  of  the  good  fortune 
that  awaited  them.  No  one  complained  of  being  waked; 
it  was  not  every  day  that  a  commissioner  of  the  Republic 
was  executed. 

As  Hulot  had  done  at  one  end  of  the  barricaded  road,  so 
the  Chouans  now  did  at  the  other.  They  fastened  horses 
to  the  trees,  drawing  them  aside,  and  leaving  the  way 
open.  At  two  o'clock,  as  Cadoudal  had  arranged,  the  sig- 
nal to  break  camp  was  given  ;  and  the  men  went  back  to 
their  posts  among  the  gorse  and  the  scrub-oak,  from  which 
they  had  fought  the  day  before. 


190  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Half  an  hour  earlier  Branche-d'Or  and  Chante-en-hiver, 
with  their  twenty  men,  dressed  as  hussars,  had  started  foi 
the  road  to  Château-Giron. 

An  hour  went  by  in  perfect  stillness.  The  Chouans 
could  hear  from  their  posts  the  calls  of  the  sentries  at  La 
Guerche,  inciting  each  other  to  watchfulness. 

About  a  quarter  to  three  o'clock  the  disguised  Chouans 
appeared  at  the  further  end  of  the  town,  and,  after  a  short 
colloquy  with  the  sentry,  advanced  along  the  main  street 
in  the  direction  of  the  town-hall,  where  Hulot  was  lodging. 
But  Chante-en-hiver  and  Branche-d'Or  were  not  so  foolish 
as  to  follow  the  great  arteries  of  the  town  ;  they  turned  off 
into  the  side  streets,  where  they  seemed  to  be  a  patrol 
charged  with  the  safety  of  the  place.  In  this  way  they 
reached  the  house  now  occupied  by  François  Goulin. 

There,  everything  happened  as  Cadoudal  had  expected. 
The  sentry  at  the  guillotine,  seeing  the  little  troop  advanc- 
ing from  the  interior  of  the  town,  felt  no  uneasiness,  and 
had  a  pistol  at  his  throat  before  he  even  suspected  an 
attack  upon  him.  The  Blues,  completely  surprised  in  the 
house  while  sleeping  soundly,  made  no  resistance.  Fran- 
çois Goulin  was  taken  from  his  bed,  rolled  and  tied  up  in 
his  sheets,  and  gagged  before  he  had  time  to  make  an 
outcry. 

As  for  the  executioner  and  his  helper,  they  slept  in  a 
lodge  at  the  end  of  the  garden;  and,  as  Cadoudal  had  pre- 
dicted, it  was  the  Republican  soldiers  themselves  who 
gave  the  information,  and  what  was  more,  they  declared 
they  would  ask  General  Hulot's  permission  to  be  present 
at  the  execution. 

Soon  after  three  in  the  morning  a  rocket  announced  to 
Cadoudal  and  his  gars  the  success  of  the  expedition;  and 
almost  immediately  the  lumbering  sound  of  a  heavy 
vehicle  was  heard.  It  was  the  truck  on  which  one  of  the 
finest  specimens  of  M.  Guillotin's  invention  was  making 
an  expedition  into  Brittany. 

Seeing  that  his  men  were  not  pursued,  Cadoudal  joined 


THE   ROAD   TO   THE    SCAFFOLD.  191 

them  with  the  rest  of  his  troop,  who  cleared  the  road  of 
the  dead  bodies,  so  as  to  allow  the  huge  machine  to  roll 
along  without  delay.  It  was  not  until  they  were  nearly 
half-way  down  the  long  descent  that  the  trumpets  and 
drums  calling  to  arms  were  heard  in  La  Guerche.  In  fact, 
no  one  had  hastened  to  inform  Colonel  Hulot  of  what  had 
happened.  The  man  who  finally  did  so  carried  with  him  a 
handful  of  invitations,  and  instead  of  at  once  announcing 
the  audacious  deed  just  performed  by  Cadoudal's  men,  he 
opened  the  subject  by  spreading  the  notices  before  the 
colonel's  eyes.  The  colonel,  not  understanding  what  they 
meant,  was  obliged  to  ask  a  series  of  questions  before  the 
truth  came,  piecemeal,  to  light.  Then,  indeed,  he  was 
frightfully  angry,  and  "ordered  the  Whites  to  be  pursued 
without  quarter,  and  the  commissary  of  the  government 
rescued  at  any  cost. 

It  was  then  that  the  drums  and  trumpets  were  heard  by 
the  Chouans. 

But  the  Republican  officers  managed  their  colonel  so 
cleverly,  and  disarmed  his  wrath  so  effectively,  that  they 
ended  by  obtaining  a  tacit  permission  to  attend,  at  their 
own  risk  and  peril,  the  execution  which  he  himself  would 
gladly  have  witnessed.  That,  he  knew,  was  impossible, 
as  it  would  probably  compromise  his  own  head;  he  con- 
tented himself  therefore  by  telling  his  secretary,  who  dared 
not  ask  to  go  with  the  other  officers,  to  see  that  he  had  an 
exact  report  of  the  v/hole  affair.  The  young  man  jumped 
with  joy  at  discovering  that  he  was  thus  forced  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  execution  of  François  Goulin. 

That  man  must  certainly  have  inspired  a  deep  disgust, 
since  Whites  and  Blues,  soldiers  and  citizens,  approved 
with  one  accord  a  deed  which  was  open  to  much  discussion 
as  a  matter  of  legal  justice. 

As  for  citizen  François  Goulin  himself,  it  was  not  until 
he  was  half-way  down  the  hill,  and  saw  the  Chouans  join- 
ing his  escort  and  fraternizing  with  them,  that  he  knew 
what  was  being  done  with  him.     Taken  from  his  house  by 


192  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

soldiers  îb  the  Republican  uniform,  tied  in  his  sheets  "by 
men  who  would  not  answer  his  questions,  put  into  a  car- 
riage with  his  friend  the  executioner,  it  was  surely  impos- 
sible that  he  should  have  any  clear  idea  of  what  was 
happening.  But,  when  he  sa,w  the  false  hussars  exchang- 
ing jests  with  the  Chouans,  who  marched  at  the  top  of  the 
slopes  on  either  side  of  the  road,  and  when,  as  he  vehe- 
mently demanded  to  know  why  his  privacy  was  violated 
and  he  himself  carried  off  by  armed  force,  and  what  they 
intended  to  do  with  him,  he  was  answered  by  a  copy  of 
the  invitation  being  thrust  before  him,  he  understood  his 
danger  and  the  little  chance  he  had  of  escaping  either 
through  help  from  the  Republicans  or  pity  from  the 
Whites,  —  two  things  on  which  he  knew  he  dared  not 
count. 

His  first  idea  was  to  address  the  executioner,  and  make 
him  understand  that  he  could  take  no  orders  but  his  own, 
having  been  sent  from  Paris  with  the  express  injunction 
to  obey  him  implicitly.  But  the  man  was  as  terrified  as 
himself,  and  was  looking  about  him  with  so  haggard  an 
eye  —  evidently  convinced  that  he  should  be  condemned  to 
death  with  the  man  beside  him  —  that  the  unhappy  Goulin 
saw  there  was  nothing  to  be  expected  from  that  quarter. 
Then  the  thought  came  to  him  to  utter  cries  and  appeals 
and  prayers;  but,  as  he  looked  about  him,  he  saw  such 
hard  insensibility  on  all  faces  that  he  shook  his  head  and 
answered  to  his  own  thought  :  — 

"No,  no,  no;  it  is  useless!  " 

Thus  they  reached  the  base  of  the  hill.  There  a  halt 
was  made.  The  Chouans  took  off  their  borrowed  uniforms 
and  put  on  their  own  clothes,  —  the  jacket,  breeches,  and 
gaiters  of  Breton  peasants.  A  crowd  of  inquisitive  stran- 
gers had  already  collected.  The  notices  had  proved  attrac- 
tive. From  a  circuit  of  twelve  miles  round  the  people 
came.  Every  one  knew  what  Francois  Goulin  was;  he 
was  called  by  no  other  name  in  all  La  Vendée  but  Goulin 
the  Drowner. 


THE   ROAD   TO   THE   SCAFFOLD.  193 

Curiosity  was  divided  between  him  and  his  guillotine. 
The  instrument  was  utterly  unknown  at  this  extremity  of 
France,  which  touches  Finisterre  (Finis  terrce,  Land's 
end).  Men  and  women  asked  each  other  how  it  was 
worked;  where  the  victim  was  placed;  how  the  knife 
would  fall.  Some,  who  did  not  know  that  he  was  the  hero 
of  the  occasion,  addressed  themselves  to  Goulin  and  asked 
for  information.     One  man  said  to  him:  — 

"  Do  you  think  they  die  as  soon  as  their  heads  are  cut 
off  ?  I  don't.  When  I  chop  the  neck  of  a  duck  or  a  goose 
it  lives  for  fifteen  minutes  longer,  at  the  least." 

And  Goulin,  who  did  not  know  himself  how  this  might 
be,  writhed  in  his  cords  and  rolled  to  the  executioner, 
saying:  — 

"Didn't  you  tell  me  once  that  the  heads  you  cut  off 
gnawed  the  basket?  " 

But  the  man,  brutalized  by  fear,  answered  only  by  vague 
exclamations,  which  showed  the  dreadful  preoccupation  of 
mind  that  allowed  them  to  escape  him. 

After  a  halt  of  fifteen  minutes,  which  allowed  the 
Chouans  to  get  into  their  own  clothes,  the  procession  again 
started;  and  presently  there  was  seen,  on  the  left,  the  entire 
population  hurrying  forward  to  take  part  in  the  execution. 
It  was  a  curious  sight  to  see  these  men,  who  the  night 
before  were  in  danger  from  that  fatal  instrument,  and  who 
now  looked  with  terror  at  the  man  who  had  so  lately 
wielded  it;  it  was  a  curious  sight  to  see  that  instrument 
now  about  —  like  the  horses  of  Diomede,  feeding  on  human 
flesh  —  to  seize  its  master  and  devour  him. 

In  the  midst  of  this  multitude  a  black  mass  moved 
along,  preceded  by  a  man  bearing  a  stick,  from  the  end  of 
which  floated  a  white  handkerchief.  These  were  the 
Kepublicans,  who  were  profiting  by  the  safe-conduct  offered 
by  Cadoudal,  and  who  came,  preceded  by  that  banner  of 
peace,  to  add  the  silence  of  their  contempt  to  the  wrath 
of  a  populace  which,  having  nothing  to  lose,  respected 
nothing. 

VOL.  n.  — 18' 


194  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Cadoudal  ordered  a  halt.  Then  he  courteously  saluted 
the  Blues,  to  whom  the  night  before  he  was  dealing  death, 
and  receiving  it  from  them. 

''Come,  messieurs,"  he  said;  "the  spectacle  is  worthy 
of  being  seen  by  men  of  all  parties.  Cut-throats,  drowners, 
murderers  have  no  flag,  or,  if  they  have  one,  it  is  black, 
—  the  flag  of  death.  Come  !  neither  you  nor  I  march 
under  that  banner;  come!  " 

And  he  resumed  his  march  in  the  midst  of  the  Republi- 
can soldiers,  placing  as  much  confidence  in  them  as  they 
had  placed  in  him. 


THE    EXECUTION.  195 


XXVII. 

THE  EXECUTION. 

Any  one  standing  in  the  village  of  Moutiers  looking  to 
the  left,  and  seeing  the  strange  procession  which  now  came 
slowly  up  the  hill,  would  have  found  some  difficulty  in 
explaining  to  himself  what  this  strange  mixture  of  men 
afoot  and  on  horseback  —  Whites  in  the  costume  conse- 
crated by  Charette,  Cathelineau,  and  Cadoudal;  Blues  in 
the  Republican  uniform;  women,  children,  peasants,  and 
that  strange  and  mysterious  instrument  rolling  amid  the 
human  flood  which  was  tossing  like  the  waves  of  Ocean  — 
might  be.  He  would,  we  say,  have  been  unable  to  explain 
the  scene,  had  he  not  been  informed  of  the  coming  event 
by  Coster  de  Saint-Victor's  invitations. 

At  first  these  notices  were  thought  to  be  one  of  those 
gasconading  jokes  which  were  common  at  that  period; 
and  many  rushed  to  the  show,  not  to  see  the  promised  exe- 
cution, —  they  dared  not  hope  for  that,  —  but  to  hear  the 
explanation  of  the  promise. 

The  rendezvous  was  at  Moutiers,  and  all  the  peasants 
of  the  surrounding  country  assembled  in  the  market-place 
of  the  village  at  eight  o'clock.  Suddenly  the  news  came 
that  the  procession  was  approaching,  swelled  at  every  step 
by  the  crowds  who  joined  it.  The  men  in  the  village  began 
to  run  to  the  designated  spot,  and  half-way  up  the  rise 
they  saw  the  Vendean  leaders,  who  rode  in  the  advance, 
each  bearing  in  his  hand  a  green  branch,  as  in  the  ancient 
days  of  expiatory  sacrifices. 

The  crowd  collected  at  Moutiers  poured  to  the  highway; 
then  like  two  tides  that  flowed  to  meet  each  other,  these 


196  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

streams  of  men  came  together  with  a  shock,  and  mingled 
their  waves.  For  an  instant  there  was  trouble  and  a 
tussle;  each  man  wanted  to  reach  the  truck  which  bore  the 
scaffold,  and  the  carriage  which  held  Goulin,  the  execu- 
tioner, and  his  helper.  But  as  all  were  animated  with  one 
mind,  and  their  enthusiasm  was  even  greater  than  their 
curiosity,  those  who  had  already  seen  the  sight  thought  it 
only  fair  to  make  way  for  those  who  had  not. 

The  farther  the  procession  went,  the  paler  Goulin  became, 
for  he  knew  they  were  marching  to  an  end  which  soon 
must  come;  besides,  he  had  read  on  the  notice  laid  before 
his  eyes  that  Moutiers  was  the  place  of  execution,  and  he 
felt  sure  that  the  village  he  saw  before  him  must  be 
Moutiers.  He  rolled  his  haggard  eyes  upon  the  crowd 
that  pressed  about  him,  unable  to  understand  that  mingling 
of  Kepublicans  with  Chouans.  The  night  before  they  had 
met  in  mortal  combat,  and  now  they  were  pressing  together 
amicably  to  form  his  escort.  Every  now  and  then  he 
closed  his  eyes,  trying,  no  doubt,  to  make  himself  believe 
he  dreamed.  When  he  did  so,  he  must  have  felt,  from  the 
roaring  of  the  crowd  and  the  swaying  of  the  carriage,  as 
though  he  were  in  a  ship  tempest-tossed  upon  an  ocean. 
Theu  he  raised  his  arms,  which  he  had  managed  to  disen- 
gage from  the  sort  of  winding-sheet  that  swathed  him,  and 
beat  the  air  like  one  insane.  He  struggled  to  his  feet, 
striving  to  cry  out,  and  perhaps  he  did  cry;  but  the  sound 
of  his  voice  was  smothered  in  the  tumult,  and  he  fell  help- 
lessly back  into  the  seat  between  his  two  companions. 

At  last  they  reached  the  table -ground  of  Moutiers,  and 
the  word  Avas  given  :  "  Halt  !  " 

The  end  had  come. 

More  than  ten  thousand  persons  were  there  assembled. 
The  trees  were  alive  with  spectators;  the  roofs  of  the 
nearest  houses  swarmed  with  them.  A  few  men  on  horse- 
back, and  one  woman,  also  on  horseback,  with  her  arm  in  a 
sling,  rose  above  the  heads  of  the  crowd.  The  men  were 
Cadoudal,    Saint-Victor,    and  the   Chouan  leaders.      The 


THE   EXECUTION.  197 

woman  was  Diana  de  Fargas,  who,  to  familiarize  herself 
with  the  emotions  of  battlefields,  had  come  in  search  of 
the  most  exciting  of  all  emotions,  —  that  communicated  to 
spectators  by  death  on  the  scaffold. 

When  the  whole  procession  had  come  to  a  standstill,  and 
every  one  had  taken  the  place  he  intended  to  keep  during 
the  execution,  Cadoudal  raised  his  hand,  and  made  a  sign 
that  he  wished  to  speak. 

All  were  silent  ;  even  the  breath  seemed  stilled  in  their 
bosoms.  A  solemn  hush  was  felt;  and  Goulin's  eyes  fixed 
themselves  on  Cadoudal,  whose  name  and  importance  were 
unknown  to  him.  Although  he  was  the  man  he  had  come 
so  far  to  seek,  fate  willed  that  at  their  first  encounter  the 
victim  he  had  sought  was  to  be  his  judge,  and  he,  the 
executioner,  the  victim,  —  if  indeed  a  murderer,  no  matter 
what  his  death  may  be,  can  rightly  be  termed  a  victim. 

Cadoudal,  as  we  have  said,  made  a  sign  that  he  wished 
to  speak. 

"Citizens,"  he  said,  addressing  the  Eepublicans,  "I  give 
you  the  title  you  give  yourselves.  Brothers,"  he  con- 
tinued, turning  to  the  Chouans,  "  I  give  you  the  title  under 
which  God  takes  you  to  his  bosom.  Your  meeting  in  one 
body  here  to-day,  the  purpose  for  which  you  have  come 
together,  proves  that  each  side  is  convinced  that  this  man 
deserves  the  punishment  he  is  now  to  undergo.  And  yet, 
Republicans,  you  who  will  some  day,  I  trust,  be  again  our 
brothers,  you  do  not  know  this  man  as  we  know  him.  One 
day,  it  was  early  in  1793,  my  father  and  I  were  returning 
from  Nantes,  whither  we  had  carried  flour,  —  there  was 
then  a  famine  in  the  town.  It  was  scarcely  daylight. 
Carrier,  the  infamous  Carrier,  had  not  yet  arrived  at 
Kantes;  therefore  I  render  unto  Csesar  that  which  is 
Caesar's,  and  to  Goulin  that  which  is  Goulin's. 

"It  was  goulin  who  invented  the  drownings. 

"We  walked  our  horses,  my  father  and  I,  along  the 
banks  of  the  Loire.  We  saw  a  boat,  on  which  they  were 
dragging  priests.     One  man  forced  them  on  board,  two  by 


198  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

two,  counting  them  as  he  did  so.  He  counted  ninety-six. 
These  priests  were  lashed  together  in  couples.  As  soon  as 
they  embarked  they  disappeared,  being  taken  to  the  hold. 
The  boat  left  the  shore;  it  moved  to  the  middle  of  the 
river.     The  man  stood  in  the  bows  with  an  oar. 

"My  father  stopped  his  horse,  and  said  to  me,  'Let  us 
wait  and  watch;  something  infamous  will  happen.'  He 
was  right.  The  boat  had  a  movable  bottom.  When  it 
reached  the  middle  of  the  Loire,  the  bottom  opened,  and 
the  wretched  men  in  the  hold  were  dropped  into  the  water. 
As,  one  by  one,  their  heads  appeared  upon  the  surface,  the 
man  and  a  few  companions  struck  those  heads,  already 
crowned  by  martyrdom,  and  broke  them  with  their  oars. 

"That  man  whom  you  see  before  you  did  that  cruel 
deed. 

"  Two  of  the  martyrs  floated  too  far  for  his  oar  to  reach 
them.  They  neared  the  shore;  they  found  a  foothold  on  a 
sand-bank.  'Quick!  '  cried  my  father;  'we  '11  save  those 
two.'  We  jumped  off  our  horses,  and  slid  down  the  slope 
to  the  shore.'  We  ran  to  them,  knife  in  hand.  They 
thought  we  were  murderers  and  tried  to  escape;  but  we 
cried  to  them,  'Come,  come,  men  of  God!  our  knives  are 
to  cut  your  bonds,  and  not  to  strike  you.'  Then  they 
came.  In  an  instant  their  hands  were  free.  Our  horses 
were  there;  we  took  the  priests  behind  us,  and  galloped 
off. 

"They  were  the  Abbés  Briançon  and  Lacombe.  We 
took  them  in  safety  to  the  forests  of  the  Morbihan.  One 
died  of  fatigue  and  exhaustion.  That  was  the  Abbé 
Briançon.     The  other  —  " 

Cadoudal  paused,  and  pointed  with  his  finger  to  a  priest, 
who  tried  to  hide  himself  in  the  crowd. 

"The  other  bore  up  bravely;  the  other  serves  the  Lord 
our  God  with  prayer,  as  we  are  serving  him  in  arms. 
There  is  that  other,  the  Abbé  Lacombe;  behold  him! 

"  From  that  time,  "  continued  Cadoudal,  now  pointing  to 
Goulin,  "that  man,  ever  the  same,  presided  at  the  drown* 


THE   EXECUTION.  199 

ings.  Through  all  the  tortures  inflicted  at  Nantes,  he  was 
Carrier's  right  arm.  When  Carrier  was  tried  and  con- 
demned to  death,  François  Goulin  was  tried  with  him;  but 
he  claimed  before  his  judges  that  he  was  only  an  instru- 
ment, not  daring,  under  fear  of  death,  to  disobey  the  orders 
that  were  given  to  him.  But  I  am  the  possessor  of  a 
letter  in  his  own  handwriting." 

Cadoudal  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket. 

"I  wished  to  send  this  paper  to  his  judges  to  enlighten 
them.  It  is  a  letter  written  by  him  to  his  colleague 
Perdraux,  pointing  out  his  method  of  proceeding.  It  is 
his  condemnation. 

"  Listen,  you  men  of  the  battlefield,  and  tell  me  if  ever 
a  bulletin  of  war  has  sent  such  a  shudder  through  your 
veins." 

Cadoudal  read,  in  a  loud  voice,  resounding  through  that 
solemn  silence,  the  following  letter:  — 

Citizen,  —  Inspired  by  patriotism,  you  ask  me  how  I  perform 
my  republican  marriages. 

When  I  give  a  batli  I  strip  the  men  and  women,  I  search  their 
clothes  for  money  and  jewels,  and  put  them  into  a  big  hamper. 
Then  I  fasten  a  man  and  a  woman  together  by  the  wrists,  face  to 
face,  I  bring  them  to  the  Loire,  and  put  them,  two  and  two,  upon 
iny  boat.  Two  men  push  them  behind,  and  pitch  them  head  fore- 
most into  the  water  ;  if  they  try  to  save  themselves,  we  have  strong 
sticks  to  knock  them  on  the  head. 

That  is  what  we  call  our  civic  marriage. 

François  Goulin. 

"Shall  I  tell  you,"  continued  Cadoudal,  "what  prevented 
me  from  sending  that  letter  to  the  judge?  The  mercy  of 
that  worthy  priest,  the  Abbé  Lacombe.  'If  God,'  he  said 
to  me,  *  has  granted  him  this  escape,  it  is  to  call  him  to 
repentance.' 

"Has  he  repented?  You  know  how  he  has  repented. 
After  drowning  fifteen  hundred  persons,  he  seized  the 
moment  when  the  Terror  was  renewed  to  beg  the  favor  of 
being  sent  once  more  to  this  ver}^  region,  of  which  he  was 


200  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  curse,  to  begin  another  course  of  executions.  Had  he 
repented,  I,  too,  would  have  forgiven  him;  but  since  he 
returns,  like  the  dog  in  the  Bible  to  his  vomit,  since  God 
has  suffered  him  to  fall  into  my  hands  after  escaping 
those  of  the  Eevolutionary  tribunal,  it  is  that  God  now 
wills  his  death." 

A  moment's  silence  followed  these  last  words.  Then 
the  guilty  man  was  seen  to  rise  in  the  carriage,  and  a 
choking  voice  cried  out  :  — 

"Mercy!  mercy!  " 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Cadoudal.  "  Since  you  are  on  your  feet, 
look  about  you.  Ten  thousand  men  are  here  to  see  you 
die.  If  among  that  ten  thousand  one  voice  alone  is 
heard  to  cry  out  'Mercy!  '  mercy  shall  be  shown  to  you." 

"  Mercy  !  "  cried  the  Abbé  Lacombe,  stretching  forth  his 
arms. 

Cadoudal  rose  in  his  stirrups. 

"You  alone  among  us  all,  father,"  he  said,  "have  no 
right  to  again  ask  mercy  for  that  man.  It  was  granted  to 
you  the  day  you  hindered  me  from  sending  that  letter  to 
his  judges.  Help  him  to  die;  that  is  all  I  can  grant 
to  you." 

Then,  in  a  voice  which  was  heard  by  every  person 
present,  he  said  again  :  — 

"  Is  there  any  one  among  you  Avho  asks  for  mercy  to  that 
man?  " 

Not  a  voice  replied.  Cadoudal  turned  to  François 
Goulin. 

"You  have  five  minutes  in  which  to  make  your  peace 
with  God,"  he  said.  "Nothing  less  than  a  miracle  can 
save  you  now.  Father,"  he  added,  addressing  the  Abbé 
Lacombe,  "  you  may,  if  you  choose,  give  your  arm  to  that 
man,  and  go  with  him  to  the  scaffold.  Executioner,  do 
your  duty." 

The  executioner,  seeing  that  there  was  no  question  of 
punishment  for  him,  and  that  he  was  there  only  to  fulfil 
his  ordinary  office,  rose  and  laid  his  hand  on  François 
Goulin's  shoulder,  in  sign  that  he  belonged  to  him. 


THE   EXECUTION.  201 

The  Abbé  Lacombe  approached  the  guilty  man.  But 
the  latter  pushed  him  away.  Then  began  a  frightful 
struggle  between  the  man,  who  would  neither  pray  nor 
die,  and  his  two  executioners.  In  spite  of  his  cries,  his 
blasphemies,  his  attempts  to  bite,  the  chief  executioner 
took  him  in  his  arms  as  he  would  a  child,  and  carried  him, 
while  the  assistant  arranged  the  knife,  from  the  carriage 
to  the  platform  of  the  guillotine. 

The  Abbé  Lacombe  was  already  there.  He  hoped  to  the 
last,  but  all  in  vain;  he  could  not  even  place  the  crucifix 
to  the  lips  of  the  guilty  man.  Then  on  that  dreadful 
stage  an  unimaginable  scene  occurred.  The  executioner 
and  his  helper  succeeded  at  last  in  forcing  the  man's  body 
upon  the  fatal  plank.  The  plank  tilted;  then  something 
passed  like  a  flash,  —  it  was  the  knife.  A  dull  sound  fol- 
lowed, —  it  was  the  head,  as  it  fell  into  the  basket. 

A  deep  silence  followed.  Then,  in  the  midst  of  it, 
Cadoudal's  voice  was  heard,  saying:  — 

"God'g  justice  has  been  done." 


202  THE   FIEST  REPUBLIC. 


XXVIII. 

THE    SEVENTH    FRUCTIDOR. 

Let  us  now  leave  Cadoudal  (who,  together  with  Pichegru^ 
was  the  last  remaining  hope  of  the  Bourbons  in  France^ 
to  continue  his  desperate  struggle  with  the  Republicans, 
sometimes  victorious,  sometimes  vanquished.  We  wil> 
ourselves  turn  our  eyes  to  Paris  and  pause  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg, —  that  monument  of  Marie  de  Médicis,  where  the 
citizen  Directors  of  the  Republic  had,  as  we  have  already 
stated,  their  apartments. 

Barras  had  received  the  message  sent  to  him  by  Bona- 
parte, through  Augereau. 

The  evening  before  Augereau's  departure  from  the  Army 
of  Italy,  the  young  commander-in-chief,  choosing  the  anni-» 
versary  of  the  14th  of  July  (which  answers  to  the  26th 
Messidor),  gave  a  fête  to  the  army,  and  committed  to  writ- 
ing the  addresses  in  which  the  soldiers  of  the  Army  of 
Italy  declared  their  attachment  to  the  Republic,  and  their 
devotion,  unto  death,  if  need  be,  to  her  cause. 

On  the  wide,  open  space  before  the  cathedral  of  Milan 
a  pyramid  was  erected,  of  trophies,  cannon,  and  flags  taken 
from  the  enemy.  This  pyramid  bore  the  names  of  all  the 
soldiers  and  officers  killed  or  dead  during  the  campaign  in 
Italy.  Every  Frenchman  in  Milan  was  invited  to  the  fête, 
and  more  than  twenty  thousand  men  presented  arms  to 
these  glorious  trophies  and  to  the  names  immortal  of  the 
dead. 

While  those  twenty  thousand  men  formed  in  square,  and 
thus  saluted  their  brethren  stretched  on  the  battlefields  of 
Areola,  Castiglione,  and  Rivoli,  Bonaparte,  with  head  un- 


THE   SEVENTH   FKUCTIDOR.  203 

covered,  and  his  right  arm  stretched  toward  the  pyramid, 
said  :  — 

"Soldiers!  this  is  the  anniversary  of  the  14th  of  July. 
You  see  before  you  the  names  of  your  companions  in  arms, 
dead  on  the  field  of  honor  for  liberty  and  their  country. 
They  have  set  you  an  example.  You  owe  yourselves,  body 
and  soul,  to  the  Kepublic,  to  the  happiness  of  thirty  mil- 
lions of  Frenchmen,  to  the  glory  of  the  name  of  France, 
which  has  just  received  fresh  lustre  from  your  victories. 

"  Soldiers  !  I  know  that  you  are  deeply  affected  by  all 
evils  that  threaten  your  country.  But  no  real  evil  can 
harm  our  country.  The  same  men  who  have  caused  her 
triumph  over  Allied  Europe  are  here.  Mountains  only 
separate  us  from  France.  You  will  cross  them  with  the 
rapidity  of  the  flight  of  eagles,  if  it  becomes  necessary  to 
maintain  the  Constitution,  defend  Liberty,  and  protect 
the  Republic. 

"  Soldiers  !  the  government  is  watchful  of  the  trust  con- 
fided to  it;  the  royalists,  when  once  they  show  their  heads, 
will  die.  Feel  no  uneasiness;  but  let  us  swear,  here,  by 
the  names  of  the  heroes  who  have  died  beside  us  in  defence 
of  liberty,  let  us  swear  on  those  banners  before  you, 
implacable,  relentless  war  to  the  enemies  of  the  Republic 
and  of  the  Constitution  of  the  year  III." 

After  this  there  was  a  banquet,  and  toasts  were  given. 
Bonaparte  gave  the  first  :  — 

"To  the  brave  Stengel,  La  Harpe,  and  Dubois,  dead  on 
the  field  of  honor.  May  their  spirits  watch  around  us  and 
protect  us  from  the  wiles  of  the  enemy  !  " 

Massena  offered  a  toast  to  the  re-emigration  of  the 
émigrés. 

Augereau,  who  was  to  leave  the  next  day  armed  with 
full  powers  from  Bonaparte,  cried  out,  as  he  raised  his 
glass  :  — 

"To  the  union  of  all  Republican  Frenchmen!  To  the 
destruction  of  the  Clichy  club!  Let  traitors  tremble! 
There  is  but  one  step  from  the  Adige  and  the  Rhine  to 


204  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

the  Seine.  Let  them  tremble,  I  say!  their  iniquities 
are  reckoned  up,  and  the  payment  is  at  the  points  of  our 
bayonets  !  " 

At  the  last  words  of  this  toast  the  drums  beat,  and  the 
trumpets  sounded  the  charge.  Every  man  ran  to  his  gun, 
as  if  he  expected  to  start  for  Paris  at  that  very  moment, 
and  it  was  only  with  great  difficulty  that  they  were  induced 
to  return  to  the  feast. 

The  Directory  saw  the  arrival  of  Bonaparte's  messenger 
with  very  contradictory  sentiments. 

Augereau  was  acceptable  to  Barras.  Barras  —  always 
ready  to  mount  a  horse  and  call  to  his  aid  the  Jacobins  and 
the  people  of  the  faubourgs  —  Barras  welcomed  Augereau 
as  the  man  of  the  situation. 

But  Eewbell  and  La  Revellière,  cool-headed  and  calm 
by  nature,  would  greatly  have  preferred  a  general  as  calm 
and  judicious  as  themselves.  As  to  Barthélémy  and 
Carnot,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  Augereau  did  not 
please  them  under  any  aspect. 

In  fact,  Augereaxi,  such  as  we  know  him,  was  a  danger- 
ous auxiliary.  A  brave  man,  an  excellent  soldier,  intrepid 
at  heart,  but  boastful  and  gasconading,  he  showed  far  too 
plainly  the  errand  on  which  he  had  been  sent.  La 
Revellière  and  Rewbell,  however,  managed  to  get  posses- 
sion of  him,  and  tried  to  make  him  see  that  the  Republic 
could  be  saved  by  one  energetic  stroke,  and  without  loss  of 
blood.  Hoping  to  keep  him  quiet,  they  gave  him  the  com- 
mand of  the  seventeenth  military  division,  which  included 
Paris. 

It  was  now  the  16th  Fructidor. 

The  relations  of  the  various  parties  were  so  strained 
that  every  one  hourly  expected  a  coup  d^État,  either  from 
the  two  Councils  or  from  the  Directors.  Pichegru  was 
the  natural  head  of  the  royalist  movement.  If  he  were 
to  take  the  initiative  all  the  royalists  would  rally  to 
him. 

The  book  we  are  now  writing  is  far  from  being  a  novel; 


THE    SEVENTH   FRUCTIDOR.  205 

in  fact,  it  is  not  enough  of  a  novel  for  certain  readers. 
We  have  already  said  that  it  is  written  to  run  side  by  side 
with  history.  Just  as  we  were  the  first  to  bring  the  events 
of  the  13th  Vendémiaire  and  the  part  that  Bonaparte 
played  in  it  to  the  light  of  day,  so  we  now  propose  to 
show,  at  the  epoch  we  have  reached,  the  facts  relating  to 
Pichegru,  who  has  been  too  much  calumniated. 

Pichegru,  after  his  refusal  of  the  Prince  de  Condé's  pro- 
posals, —  a  refusal  we  have  already  explained,  —  entered 
into  a  direct  correspondence  with  the  Comte  de  Provence, 
who,  after  the  death  of  the  little  dauphin,  assumed  the 
title  of  King  Louis  XVIII.  Now,  at  the  time  that  he  sent 
Cadoudal  his  brevet  as  lieutenant  of  the  king,  together 
with  the  order  of  Saint-Louis,  Louis  XVIII.  rightly  appre- 
ciating the  disinterestedness  of  Pichegru,  who  had  refused 
both  honors  and  money,  and  was  only  furthering  the 
Restoration  for  the  glory  of  Monk,  and  without  the  duchy 
of  Albemarle,  wrote  as  follows  to  the  general:  — 

I  have  long  desired,  monsieur,  to  express  to  you  the  sentiments 
with  which  you  have  inspired  me  and  the  esteem  which  I  feel  for 
you  personally.  I  now  yield  to  this  wish  of  my  heart,  and  I  think 
it  only  right  to  tell  you  that  for  the  last  eighteen  months  I  have  been 
convinced  that  the  honor  of  restoring  the  French  monarchy  is 
reserved  for  you. 

I  will  not  speak  to  you  of  the  admiration  I  feel  for  your  talents 
and  for  the  great  things  you  have  already  done.  History  will  place 
you  in  the  rank  of  her  great  generals,  and  posterity  will  confirm 
the  judgment  that  all  Europe  forms  on  your  victories  and  your 
virtues. 

The  famous  captains  of  past  ages  have  mostly  owed  their  success 
to  long  experience  in  their  profession  ;  but  you  have  been  from  the 
first  what  you  have  never  ceased  to  be  throughout  the  long  course  of 
your  campaigns.  You  have  united  the  bravery  of  the  Maréchal  de 
Saxe  with  the  disinterestedness  of  M.  de  Turenne  and  the  modesty  of 
M.  de  Catinat.  I  may  indeed  assure  you  that  you  are  never 
separated  in  my  mind  from  those  heroes,  so  glorious  in  our  annals. 

I  hereby  confirm,  monsieur,  all  the  powers  which  have  been 
transmitted  to  you  by  M.  le  Prince  de  Condé.     I  place  no  limit  upon 


206  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

tbem,  and  I  leave  you  absolutely  master  to  do,  or  not  to  do,  whatever 
you  may  think  most  judicious  for  my  service,  provided  such  action 
be  compatible  with  the  dignity  of  my  crown  and  conducive  to  the 
welfare  of  the  State. 

You  know,  monsieur,  my  sentiments  for  you;  tbey  will  not 
change. 

Louis. 

A  second  letter  followed  the  lirst.  Both  give  an  exact 
measure  of  Louis  XVIII. 's  feelings  and  opinions  as  to 
Pichegru;  and  they  ought  to  influence,  not  only  the  opin- 
ion of  contemporaries,  but  also  that  of  posterity. 

You  are  aware,  monsieur,  of  the  unfortunate  events  which  are 
taking  place  in  Italy.  The  necessity  of  sending  thirty  thousand  men 
in  that  direction  obliges  us  to  postpone  indefinitely  our  crossing  of 
the  Rhine,  Your  attachment  to  my  person  will  enable  you  to  judge 
of  the  degree  of  disappointment  which  I  feel  at  this  unhappy  mis- 
chance, and  more  especially  at  a  moment  when  I  saw  the  gates  of  my 
kingdom  opening  before  me.  On  the  other  hand,  these  disasters 
only  increase,  if  possible,  the  confidence  witli  which  you  have  inspired 
me.  I  am  convinced  that  you  will  one  day  restore  the  French  mon- 
archy, and,  whether  the  war  continues,  or  whether  peace  shall  come 
in  the  course  of  this  summer,  it  is  upon  you  that  I  rely  for  the  success 
of  that  great  event.  I  place  in  your  hands,  monsieur,  all  the  pleni- 
tude of  my  power,  and  my  rights.  Make  such  use  of  them  as  you 
think  necessary  for  my  service. 

If  the  invaluable  connections  which  you  have  in  Paris  and  also 
in  the  provinces,  if  your  talents,  and  above  all,  your  character,  could 
allow  me  to  expect  any  event  which  should  force  you  to  leave  the 
kingdom,  you  will  find  your  place  always  ready  for  you,  either  with 
the  Prince  de  Condé,  or  with  me.  In  writing  thus,  it  is  my  desire  to 
prove  to  you  my  esteem,  and  my  attachment. 

Louis. 

Thus,  on  one  side,  Augereau  was  pressing  the  Directors 
with  Bonaparte's  letters;  on  the  other  Pichegru,  the  presi- 
dent of  the  Council,  was  being  pressed  by  those  of  Louis 
XVIII. 

The  news  that  Augereau  was  appointed  to  the  command 


THE   SEVENTH   FRUCTIDOR.  207 

of  the  seventeenth  military  division  —  that  is  to  say,  to 
the  command  of  the  forces  in  Paris  —  showed  the  royalists 
that  they  had  no  time  to  lose.  Consequently,  Pichegru, 
Villot,  Barbe-Marbois,  Dumas,  Murinais,  Delarue,  Rovère, 
Aubry,  Laffon-Ladebat,  in  fact,  all  the  chief  royalist 
leaders,  assembled  to  deliberate  on  the  situation  at  the 
house  of  Adjutant-general  Ramel,  commanding  the  Guard 
■of  the  Legislative  body. 

Eamel  was  a  brave  soldier,  adjutant-general  to  the  Army 
of  the  Ehine  under  General  Desaix,  when,  in  1797,  he 
received  orders  from  the  Directory  to  return  to  Paris  and 
take  command  of  the  Legislative  Guard.  This  guard  was 
composed  of  a  battalion  of  six  hundred  men,  most  of  whom 
had  been  the  grenadiers  of  the  Convention,  —  men  whom 
we  saw  on  the  loth  Vendémiaire  bravely  marching  to  the 
attack  under  the  command  of  General  Bonaparte. 

At  this  meeting  the  situation  was  clearly  explained  by 
Pichegru.  Eamel  was  devoted,  heart  and  soul,  to  the  two 
Councils,  and  ready  to  obey  any  orders  given  to  him  by 
their  presidents. 

Pichegru  proposed  to  put  himself  that  very  night  at  the 
head  of  two  hundred  men,  arrest  the  Directors  Barras, 
Eewbell,  and  La  Eevelliere-Lepeaux,  and  arraign  them 
the  following  day.  Unhappily,  it  had  been  agreed  that 
all  questions  should  be  carried  by  a  majority.  The  tem- 
porizers opposed  Pichegru's  proposal. 

"The  Constitution  will  suffice  to  protect  us,"  cried 
Lacuee. 

"The  Constitution  can  do  nothing  against  cannon,  and 
they  wiil  use  cannon  in  reply  to  our  decrees,"  replied 
Villot. 

"The  soldiers  are  not  with  them,"  persisted  Lacuee. 

"Soldiers  are  with  those  who  command  them,"  said 
Pichegru.  "If  you  will  not  act,  you  are  lost.  As  for 
me,  "  he  added  sadly,  "  I  have  long  made  a  sacrifice  of  my 
life.  I  am  weary  of  these  debates  which  lead  to  nothing. 
When  you  have  need  of  me,  come  to  me." 


208  THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

So  saying,  he  retired. 

At  the  very  moment  when  Pichegru,  discouraged,  was 
leaving  Ramel's  house,  a  post-chaise  stopped  at  the  gate 
of  the  Luxembourg,  and  a  servant  soon  after  ushered  into 
Barras 's  presence  the  citizen  General  Moreau. 


JSAN-VICTOR   MOREAU.  209 


XXIX. 

JEAN-VICTOR   MOREATT. 

At  this  period  of  his  life  Moreau  was  a  man  of  thirty- 
seven  years  of  age.  Hoche  and  he  were  the  only  real 
rivals  of  Bonaparte,  if  not  in  success,  at  least  in  fame. 
About  this  time  it  was  that  he  joined  an  association  which 
afterwards  became  a  conspiracy.  This  association,  called 
the  Philadelphians,  established  in  1797,  was  not  stifled 
until  after  Wagram,  in  1809,  on  the  death  of  Colonel 
Oudet,  its  president.  Moreau's  name  in  the  society  was 
Fabius,  that  of  the  famous  Roman  general  who  won  his 
victory  over  Hannibal  by  temporizing.  Moreau  was  also 
"the  temporizer." 

Unhappily,  this  temporizing  tendency  was  not,  with 
him,  the  result  of  deliberation  but  an  effect  of  character. 
Moreau  was  utterly  without  firmness  in  his  political  views, 
and  without  determination  in  matters  of  will.  Gifted 
with  more  instinctive  energy,  he  might  have  influenced 
the  destinies  of  France,  and  made  himself  a  career  that 
would  have  rivalled  the  noblest  lives  in  ancient  or  modern 
history. 

Moreau  was  born  at  Morlaix,  in  Brittany.  His  father 
was  a  distinguished  lawyer;  his  family  were  respected, 
and  were  neither  rich  nor  poor.  At  eighteen  years  of  age 
he  was  attracted  to  a  military  career  and  enlisted.  His 
father,  anxious  to  make  him  a  lawyer  like  himself,  bought 
his  discharge  and  sent  him  to  Rennes  to  study  law.  Here 
he  acquired  a  certain  influence  over  his  comrades,  —  an 
influence  due  to  his  undoubted  moral  superiority.     Inferior 

VOL.    II. —  14 


210  THE    FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

in  intelligence  to  Bonaparte,  inferior  in  spontaneity  to 
Heche,   he  was  easily  superior  to  many  others. 

When  the  premonitory  troubles  of  the  Revolution  broke 
out  in  Brittany,  Moreau  sided  with  the  Parliamentary 
party  against  the  court,  and  carried  with  him  the  whole 
body  of  his  fellow-students.  Hence  arose  between  Moreau, 
whom  his  comrades  nicknamed  the  Parliamentary  general, 
and  the  commandant  of  Eennes  a  feud  in  which  the  old 
soldier  did  not  always  have  the  advantage.  It  ended  in 
the  Commandant  issuing  orders  for  Moreau's  arrest. 
Moreau,  the  basis  of  whose  genius  was  prudence,  found 
a  way  of  evading  pursuit,  at  the  same  time  showing  him- 
self first  in  one  place  and  then  in  another,  so  that  all 
parties  were  well  convinced  that  the  soul  of  the  Parlia- 
mentary opposition  had  not  deserted  the  old  capital  of 
Armorica. 

But  later,  finding  that  the  Parliament  he  was  defending 
was  opposed  to  the  convocation  of  the  States-general,  and 
believing  that  convocation  necessary  for  the  future  happi- 
ness of  France,  he  changed  sides  (while  still  maintaining 
his  opinions),  supported  the  convocation,  and  appeared  at 
the  head  of  the  various  troops  which  began  thenceforth  to 
organize  themselves  in  Brittany.  He  was  the  leader  of 
the  Breton  youths  who  assembled  at  Pontivy,  when  the 
attorney-general  of  the  department,  wishing  to  utilize  a 
capacity  which  thus  revealed  itself,  appointed  him  com- 
mander of  the  1st  battalion  of  volunteers  from  Ille-et- 
Vi  laine. 

Here  is  what  Moreau  himself  says  of  his  earh^  career  : 
"  I  was  bound  to  the  study  of  the  law  at  the  beginning 
of  that  Revolution  which  laid  the  foundation  for  the  free- 
dom of  the  French  people.  It  changed  the  destination  of 
my  life.  I  vowed  myself  to  arms.  I  did  not  enlist  among 
the  soldiers  of  liberty  out  of  ambition;  I  entered  the  mili- 
tary profession  out  of  respect  for  the  nation's  rights.  1 
became  a  man  of  war  because  I  was  a  citizen." 

Moreau  owed  to  his  calm  and  rather  lymphatic  tempera- 


JEAN-VICTOR   MOREAU.  211 

ment,  a  wonderful  sureness  of  eye  and  a  coolness  in  danger 
which  were  amazing  in  a  young  man.  At  this  early  period 
of  the  Revolution,  when  men  of  parts  were  lacking  (they 
were  soon  to  flock  in,  in  crowds),  his  fine  qualities,  though 
somewhat  negative,  won  for  ]\Ioreau  the  rank  of  general  of 
brigade  in  the  army  of  which  Pichegru  was  then  com- 
mander-in-chief. 

Pichegru,  a  man  of  genius,  appreciated  Moreau,  and 
conferred  upon  him,  in  1794,  the  rank  of  general  of  divi- 
sion. From  that  moment  he  had  under  his  orders  a  corps 
of  twenty-five  thousand  men,  and  he  was  more  particu- 
larly intrusted  with  the  conduct  of  sieges.  In  the  brilliant 
campaign  of  1794,  Avhich  subjected  Holland  to  France, 
Moreau  commanded  the  right  wing  of  our  army.  The 
conquest  of  Holland  was  thought  impossible  by  all  strate- 
gists, Holland  being,  as  we  know,  on  a  level  lower  than 
the  sea,  —  conquered  from  the  sea,  as  it  were,  —  and  capa- 
ble of  being  flooded  at  will. 

The  Dutch  did  actually  risk  this  semi-suicide.  They 
cut  the  dykes  which  held  back  the  waters  of  the  sea,  hop- 
ing to  avoid  invasion  by  inundating  their  provinces.  Biit, 
all  of  a  sudden,  a  cold  hitherto  unknown  in  those  regions, 
a  cold  of  fifteen  degrees  Centigrade,  —  such  a  cold  as  comes 
in  Europe  only  once  in  a  century,  —  set  in,  and  froze  the 
canals  and  rivers. 

Then,  with  an  audacity  which  belongs  to  Frenchmen 
only,  our  armies  marched  on  the  frozen  surface  of  the 
abyss.  First  the  infantry  risked  the  passage;  then  the 
cavalry;  then  the  light  batteries;  and  at  last,  as  the  ice 
proved  able  to  bear  the  unusual  weight,  the  heavy  artil- 
lery, with  its  siege  guns,  was  drawn  across  that  temporary 
sea.  Ice  was  the  battlefield,  as  terra  firma  in  other  times. 
The  British  were  attacked  and  driven  back  at  the  point  of 
the  bayonet;  the  Austrian  batteries  were  carried;  the  very 
precaution  which  was  expected  by  the  Dutch  to  save  Hol- 
land, lost  her.  Cold,  destined  later  to  be  the  mortal  enemy 
of  the  Empire,  was  now  the  faithful  ally  of  the  Republic. 


212  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

There  was  nothing,  therefore,  to  prevent  the  invasion 
of  the  United-Provinces.  The  ramparts  no  longer  pro- 
tected the  towns,  for  the  ice  was  on  the  level  of  the  ram- 
parts. Arnheim,  Amsterdam,  Rotterdam,  the  Hague  were 
taken.  The  conquest  of  Overyssel,  Groningen,  and 
Friesland  delivered  all  Holland  into  our  hands. 

The  Stadtholder's  fleet,  caught  in  the  ice,  lay  in  the 
straits  of  Texel.  Moreau  drew  his  cannon  over  the  sea, 
and  replied  to  the  broadsides  of  ships  as  if  to  a  fortress. 
He  sent  a  regiment  of  hussars  to  board  them,  and  —  amaz- 
ing, unheard-of  thing  in  the  history  of  peoples  and  of 
navies  —  a  fleet  is  captured  by  a  regiment  of  light  cavalry  ! 

These  were  the  facts  that  magnified  Pichegru  and  Moreau 
into  heroes,  leaving  to  each,  however,  his  rightful  place, 
Moreau  still  being  merely  the  able  lieutenant  of  a  man 
of  genius.  That  was  the  state  of  things  when  Pichegru 
was  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine 
and  Moselle,  and  Moreau  to  the  command  of  the  Army  of 
the  North. 

Before  long,  as  we  have  already  seen,  Pichegru  was  sus- 
pected and  recalled  to  Paris,  and  Moreau  took  his  place 
as  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine  and 
Moselle. 

At  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  a  fourgon,  forming 
part  of  the  equipment  of  the  Austrian  general  Klinglin, 
had  been  captured  by  the  light-horse  cavalry.  In  a  coffer 
which  was  brought  to  I\Ioreau  was  the  whole  correspon- 
dence between  Fauche-Borel  and  the  Prince  de  Condé. 
This  correspondence  reported,  among  other  things,  the 
interviews  of  Fauche-Borel,  under  the  guise  of  Fenouillot, 
commercial  traveller  in  wines,  with  Pichegru. 

Here  is  a  point  on  which  every  one  has  a  right  to  judge 
of  Moreau's  conduct  according  to  his  own  fashion  and 
conscience. 

Moreau,  the  friend  of  Pichegru,  a  man  under  deep  obli- 
gations to  Pichegru,  and  Pichegru's  lieutenant,  —  should 
he  have  taken  cognizance  only  of  the  contents  of  the  coffer 


JEAN-VICTOR   MOREATJ.  213 

and  sent  them  to  his  former  general  and  bade  him  take 
warniDg;  or  was  he  bound,  placing  the  interests  of  his 
country  before  the  dictates  of  his  heart,  stoicism  before 
friendship,  to  have  done  what  he  did,  —  namely,  employ 
six  months  in  deciphering  these  letters,  which  were  writ- 
ten in  cipher?  And  ought  he  (suspicions  justified,  but 
culpability  not  proved,  remember),  ought  he  to  have 
waited  till  the  tempest  was  gathering  about  Pichegru's 
head  and  then  have  hurried  to  Paris  and  knocked  at 
Barras's  door  to  say  :  — 

"Here  I  am,  and  with  me  a  thunderbolt!  " 

It  was  that  which  brought  Moreau  to  the  gate  of  the 
Luxembourg,  as  Pichegru  was  leaving  the  consultation  of 
his  friends;  it  was  these  proofs,  not  of  treachery,  but  of 
negotiation,  enabling  the  Directory  to  get  rid  of  Pichegru 
by  accusing  him,  which  Moreau  now  delivered  to 
Barras. 

Barras  passed  two  hours  tête-h-tête  with  Moreau,  assur- 
ing himself  that  he  really  held  weapons  against  his  enemy 
which  were  all  the  more  deadly  because  they  were  poi- 
soned. When  he  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  he  had 
grounds,  if  not  for  a  condemnation,  at  least  for  a  trial,  he 
rang  the  bell.     An  usher  entered. 

"  Fetch  the  minister  of  police  and  my  colleagues  Rew 
bell  and  La  Bevellière-Lepeaux,"  he  said.  Then  looking 
at  his  watch,  he  added,  "Ten  o'clock;  we  have  six  hours 
before  us."  Stretching  his  hand  out  to  Moreau,  he  said 
significantly,  "Citizen  general,  you  have  come  just  in  time; 
we  shall  owe  you  something  for  this." 

Moreau  begged  permission  to  retire.  It  was  granted; 
the  general  would  have  embarrassed  Barras  as  much  as 
Barras  embarrassed  Moreau  in  what  was  to  follow. 

The  three  Directors  were  in  session  till  two  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  minister  of  police  hastened  to  them,  and  they 
sent  successively  for  Augereau  and  Merlin  (of  Douai). 
Then,  about  one  in  the  morning,  the  following  address  was 
sent  to  the  government  printing-press  :  — 


Q14  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

The  Directory,  attacked  toward  two  in  the  morning  by  the 
troops  of  the  two  Councils  under  command  of  Adjutant-general 
Kamel,  has  been  compelled  to  repulse  force  by  force. 

After  a  combat  of  one  hour's  duration  the  troops  of  the  two 
Councils  were  defeated  and  victory  remains  with  the  government. 

More  than  one  hundred  prisoners  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Direc- 
tory. A  list  of  their  names  will  be  published  to-morrow,  together 
with  all  the  details  of  this  conspiracy  and  its  attempt  to  overthrow 
the  estabUshed  government. 

18th  Fructidor,  4  A.  M. 

This  curious  document  was  signed  by  Barras,  Rewbell, 
and  La  Revellière-Lepeaux.  Sothin,  the  minister  of  polica, 
suggested  it,  and  it  was  he  who  wrote  it  down. 

"Nobody  will  believe  it,"  said  Barras. 

"They'll  believe  it  to-morrow,"  said  Sothin  ;  "and 
that 's  all  we  need.  Never  mind  whether  they  believe  it 
the  day  after  or  not;  the  trick  will  be  played  and  the  game 
won." 

The  Directors  separated,  giving  orders  to  arrest,  first  of 
all,  their  colleagues  Carnot  and  Barthélémy. 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   FRUCTIDOR.  2-15, 


XXX. 

THE   EIGHTEENTH    FRUCTIDOR. 

While  the  minister  of  police  was  drawing  up  the  mani- 
festo and  sending  it  to  be  printed  on  posters  for  the  walls 
of  Paris,  proposing  at  the  same  time  to  shoot  Carnot,  the 
fourth  Director,  and  forty-two  of  the  deputies;  while  the 
appointment  of  Barthélémy,  the  fifth  Director,  was  an- 
nulled, and  his  place  promised  to  Augereau  if,  by  the 
evening  of  the  next  day,  the  three  other  Directors  were 
satisfied  with  him,  two  men  were  tranquilly  playing  back- 
gammon in  a  corner  of  the  palace  of  the  Luxembourg. 

One  of  these  men,  the  younger  of  the  two  by  about  three 
years,  had  begun  life  as  an  officer  of  engineers  and  had 
published  essays  on  mathematics,  which  had  earned  him 
admittance  to  various  learned  societies.  He  had,  besides, 
composed  a  eulogy  on  Vauban,  which  was  crowned  by  the 
academy  of  Dijon.  He  was  a  captain  of  engineers  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  Revolution,  and  had  already  received 
the  order  of  Saint-Louis.  In  1791  he  was  elected  deputy 
to  the  Legislative  Assembly,  by  the  department  of  the 
Pas-de-Calais.  There  his  first  speech  was  aimed  against 
the  princes  who  had  emigrated  to  Coblentz,  against  the 
Marquis  de  Mirabeau,  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan,  and  M.  de 
Calonne,  who  were  then  intriguing  with  foreign  kings  to 
induce  them  to  make  war  upon  France.  He  proposed  to 
substitute  for  all  titled  officers  and  those  of  the  army  who 
had  emigrated  the  subaltern  officers  and  sergeants.  In 
1792  he  demanded  the  demolition  of  all  the  bastilles  within 
the  borders  of  France,  and  presented  measures  aiming  to 
do  away  with  the  passive  obedience  exacted  from  officers 


216  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

and  soldiers.  At  the  time  when  the  Revolution  was  in 
danger  from  foreign  nations,  he  proposed  the  manufacture 
of  three  hundred  thousand  pikes  with  which  to  arm  the 
people  of  Paris.  Elected  deputy  to  the  National  Conven- 
tion he  voted  the  death  of  the  king  without  blinking.  He 
united  the  principality  of  Monaco  and  part  of  Belgium  to 
France. 

Sent  as  commissioner  to  the  Army  of  the  North  in  1793, 
he  degraded  General  Gratien  on  the  battlefield  of  Wattig- 
nies  for  retiring  before  the  enemy,  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  French  column,  and  retook  the  lost  ground. 
Appointed  in  August  of  the  same  year  a  member  of  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety,  he  displayed  immense  ability, 
now  become  proverbial,  in  organizing  fourteen  armies,  and 
in  forming  plans  of  campaign,  not  only  for  each  army,  but 
for  the  general  field  of  their  united  operations.  It  was 
then  that  he  obtained  for  our  armies  those  astounding 
victories  which  succeeded  each  other  in  rapid  succession, 
from  the  retaking  of  Toulon  to  the  surrender  of  the 
Quadrilateral. 

This  man  was  Lazare-Nicolas-Marguerite  Carnot,  the 
fourth  Director,  who,  not  being  able  to  agree  with  his: 
brother  Directors,  Barras,  Rewbell,  and  La  Revellière- 
Lepeaux,  had  just  been  doomed  to  death  by  them  as  a  man 
too  dangerous  to  be  allowed  to  live. 

His  partner  at  backgammon,  whose  nonchalance  in  shak- 
ing the  dice  was  equalled  only  by  Carnot 's  energy,  was  the 
Marquis  François  Barthélémy,  the  last  of  the  Directors, 
who  had  no  distinctive  merit  whatever,  except  that  of 
being  the  nephew  of  the  Abbé  Barthélémy,  the  author  of 
the  "Voyage  du  jeune  Anarcharsis."  Minister  of  France 
to  Switzerland  during  the  Revolution,  he  had  concluded  at 
Basle,  two  years  earlier,  the  treaties  of  peace  with  Prussia 
and  Spain,  which  put  an  end  to  the  first  coalition.  He 
was  appointed  Director  on  account  of  his  well-known 
moderantism;  and  it  was  this  very  moderautism  which 
led  his  colleagues  to  exclude  him,  and  to  resolve  on  his 
incarceration. 


THE    EIGHTEENTH   FRUCTIDOR.  217 

It  was  one  in  the  morning  when  Carnot,  with  a  bold 
stroke,  ended  their  sixth  game  of  backgammon.  The 
friends  parted  with  a  shake  of  the  hand. 

"Au  revoir,"  said  Carnot. 

"Au  revoir?"  remarked  Barthélémy,  "are  you  so  sure 
of  that,  my  dear  colleague?  As  things  are  now,  I 
never  go  to  bed  certain  of  seeing  my  friends  on  the 
morrow." 

"What  the  devil  are  you  afraid  of?"  asked  Carnot. 

"Hu!  hu!"  exclaimed  Barthélémy;  " a  dagger-thrust  is 
soon  given." 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Carnot,  "  make  yourself  easy  ;  it  is  '  not 
you  they  want  to  assassinate,  it  is  I.  You  are  too  good 
a  fellow;  they  are  not  afraid  of  you.  They  '11  treat  you 
like  a  roi  fainéant,  depose  you,  and  shut  you  up  in  a 
cloister." 

"If  you  fear  that,"  said  Barthélémy,  "why  do  you  let 
yourself  be  conquered  instead  of  conquering  them.  For 
you  know  very  well,  from  the  proposals  that  have  been 
made  to  us,  we  should  have  no  difficulty  in  overthrowing 
our  three  colleagues." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Carnot,  "you  don't  see  beyond 
your  nose,  which,  unluckily,  is  not  as  long  as  that  of  your 
uncle.  Who  are  the  men  that  made  us  those  proposals? 
Royalists.  Now,  do  you  suppose  the  royalists  will  ever 
forgive  me  for  what  I  have  done  against  them?  I  have 
only  a  choice  of  deaths,  —  with  the  royalists,  hanged  for  a 
regicide;  with  the  Directors,  assassinated  as  a  royalist.  I 
prefer  assassination." 

"And  yet,  with  those  ideas  in  your  mind,"  said  Barthe^ 
lemy,  "you  sleep  in  your  own  house." 

"Where  else  should  I  sleep?  " 

"Anywhere;  somewhere  in  safety." 

"I  am  a  fatalist;  if  a  dagger  is  to  find  me,  it  will  find 
me.  Good-night,  Barthélémy.  I  have  my  conscience  clear. 
I  voted  the  death  of  the  king,  but  I  saved  France,  It  is 
for  France  to  watch  over  me." 


218  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

So  saying,  Carnot  walked  away  to  his  own  home  and 
went  to  bed  as  tranquilly  as  usual. 

But  he  was  not  mistaken;  orders  had  been  given  to  a 
German  to  arrest  him,  and  at  the  slightest  resistance,  to 
shoot  him.  At  three  in  the  morning  the  German  and  his 
myrmidons  were  at  the  door  of  the  house  where  Carnot 
lived  with  his  younger  brother.  Carnot's  servant,  seeing 
the  men  and  hearing  their  leader  ask  in  bad  French  where 
citizen  Carnot'-s  apartment  was,  conducted  them  to  the 
room  of  the  younger  brother,  who  having  nothing  to  fear 
on  his  own  account,  left  the  policemen  in  their  error. 

The  valet  then  ran  to  warn  his  master.  Carnot,  half- 
naked,  escaped  through  a  gate  into  the  garden  of  the 
Luxembourg,  of  which  he  had  a  key.  Then  the  servant 
returned  to  the  other  brother,  who,  on  seeing  him,  knew 
that  his  brother  had  escaped,  and  therefore  allowed  his 
captors  to  discover  the  truth.  The  men  were  furious  ;  they 
searched  Carnot's  apartment,  but  found  no  trace  of  him 
except  an  empty  bed  still  warm. 

Once  out  of  the  gardens  of  the  Luxembourg,  the  fugi- 
tive scarcely  knew  which  way  to  go.  He  went  first  to  a 
furnished  lodging-house  in  the  rue  d'Enfer,  but  was  told 
there  was  not  a  single  room  vacant.  He  started  again, 
searching  for  a  place  at  random,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  the 
sound  of  cannon  startled  him.  At  the  sound,  several  doors 
and  windows  opened.  What  would  become  of  him,  if  seen 
half -naked?  He  could  not  avoid  being  arrested  by  the 
first  patrol  that  came  along,  and  on  all  sides  it  was  appar- 
ent that  the  troops  were  converging  toward  the  Luxem- 
bourg. At  the  corner  of  the  rue  de  la  Vieille-Comédie  a 
patrol  appeared.  Just  then  a  porter  opened  a  door,  and 
Carnot  rushed  within  it.  Fortunately,  the  man  happened 
to  be  kindly  and  kept  him  hidden  until  he  had  time  to 
obtain  a  better  shelter. 

As  for  Barthélémy,  though  Barras  had  given  him  two 
hints  in  the  course  of  the  day  as  to  the  fate  that  awaited 
him,  he  took  no  precautions.     An  hour  after  leaving  Carnot 


THE    EIGHTEENTH   FRUCTIDOR.  219 

he  was  arrested  in  his  bed.  He  did  not  even  ask  to  see 
the  warrant  of  arrest;  and  the  words,  "Oh,  my  country!  " 
were  all  he  said.  His  servant,  Letellier,  who  had  never 
left  him  for  twenty  years,  demanded  to  be  arrested  with 
him.  This  singular  favor  was  refused;  we  shall  see  how 
he  obtained  it  later. 

The  two  Councils  had  appointed  a  committee  to  sit  per- 
manently. The  president  of  this  committee  was  Simeon. 
He  had  not  arrived  when  the  cannon  sounded  the  alarm. 
Pichegru  had  spent  the  night  in  the  room  of  this  commit- 
tee with  those  of  the  confederates  who  were  resolved  on 
opposing  force  by  force.  But  none  of  them  thought  the 
moment  was  so  near,  or  that  the  Directory  would  venture 
on  a  coup  d'État. 

Several  members  of  the  committee  were  armed,  among 
them  Rovère  and  Villot,  and  when  they  learned  that  the 
building  was  surrounded  they  proposed  to  fight  their  way 
out,  pistol  in  hand.     But  Pichegru  opposed  this. 

"Our  other  colleagues  are  not  armed,"  he  said.  "They 
would  be  massacred  by  those  wretches  who  only  need  a 
pretext.     We  must  not  abandon  them." 

At  the  same  moment  the  door  of  the  committee-room 
opened,  and  a  member  of  the  Councils,  named  Delarue, 
rushed  in. 

"Ah!  my  dear  Delarue,"  cried  Pichegru,  "what  the 
devil  are  you  doing  here?     We  shall  all  be  arrested." 

"Well,  then,  we  shall  be  together,"  said  Delarue, 
quietly. 

In  fact,  Delarue,  determined  to  share  the  fate  of  his  col- 
leagues, had  forced  the  guard  three  times  in  order  to  get  to 
the  committee.  Friends  had  gone  to  his  house  to  warn 
him  of  his  danger,  but  he  refused  to  fly,  which  he  might 
easily  have  done.  After  kissing  his  wife  and  children 
without  awakening  them,  he  had  come,  as  we  have  said,  to 
join  his  colleagues. 

We  have  told,  in  the  preceding  chapter,  how,  in  spite  of 
his  entreaties,  Pichegru,  having  asked  for   two   hundred 


220  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

men  to  bring  the  Directors  before  the  bar  of  the  Legisla-. 
tive  council,  had  been  unable  to  obtain  what  he  wanted. 
Now,  all  were  eager  to  defend  themselves,  but  it  was  too 
late. 

Delarue  had  scarcely  exchanged  the  few  words  we  have 
recorded  with  Pichegru,  before  the  door  of  the  committee- 
room  was  burst  in,  and  a  flood  of  soldiers  led  by  Augereau 
made  an  irruption  into  the  place. 

Augereau  found  himself  beside  Pichegru,  and  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  seize  him  by  the  collar. 
Delarue  pulled  a  pistol  from  his  pocket  and  attempted 
to  fire  at  Augereau,  but  as  he  did  so  a  bayonet  was  thrust 
through  his  arm. 

"  I  arrest  you  !  "  said  Augereau,  seizing  Pichegru. 

"Wretch!"  replied  Pichegru,  "it  is  fitting  that  you 
should  make  yourself  the  minion  of  citizen  Barras." 

"Soldiers!"  cried  a  member  of  the  Committee,  "are 
you  so  bold  as  to  lay  a  hand  on  Pichegru,  your  general?" 

Without  replying,  Augereau  flung  himself  upon  his 
prisoner,  and  with  the  help  of  four  soldiers,  ended,  after 
a  violent  struggle,  by  twisting  his  arms  and  binding  them 
behind  his  back. 

Pichegru  being  arrested,  the  conspiracy  had  no  longer  a 
head,  and  no  one  attempted  any  resistance.  General 
Mathieu  Dumas,  the  same  who  was  minister  of  war  at 
Naples  under  Joseph  Bonaparte,  and  wlio  has  left  such 
curious  memoirs  behind  him,  happened  to  be  in  the  com- 
mittee-room at  the  time  it  was  invaded.  He  wore  the 
uniform  of  a  general  officer.  Leaving  the  room  through 
the  door  by  which  Augereau  had  entered  he  went  down- 
stairs. In  the  vestibule  a  sentinel  barred  the  way  with 
his  bayonet. 

"No  one  can  pass  out,"  he  said. 

"I  know  that,"  said  the  general,  "inasmuch  as  I  gave 
the  order  myself." 

"Beg  pardon,  general,"  said  the  man,  raising  his  musket. 

And  Mathieu  Dumas  passed  out  without  molestation. 


THE   EIGHTEENTH   FKUCTIDOR.  221 

It  was  also  necessary  for  safety's  sake  that  he  should 
leave  Paris.  General  Dumas  took  his  two  aides-de-camp, 
made  them  mount  their  horses,  galloped  with  them  to  the 
barrier,  gave  his  orders  to  the  post,  and  started  to  ride 
round  the  walls  and  re-enter  the  city,  he  said,  by  another 
gate  ;  instead  of  which  he  escaped. 


222  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXXI. 


THE    TEMPLE. 


This  is  how  things  happened  :  — 

When  a  great  event  takes  place,  like  the  13th  Vendémi- 
aire, or  the  18th  Fructidor,  that  event  cuts  an  indelible 
date  upon  the  page  of  history.  All  the  world  knows  that 
date,  and  when  the  words  are  said,  "  13th  Vendémiaire,"  or 
''  18th  Fructidor,"  each  person  thinks  of  the  results  of  the 
great  event  to  which  one  or  other  of  those  dates  is  sacred  ; 
and  yet  how  few  know  the  secret  springs  by  which  that 
event  was  accomplished  ! 

For  this  reason,  we  have,  above  all,  imposed  upon  our- 
selves the  task  in  our  historic  novels  —  or  rather,  as  we 
should  call  them,  our  histories  related  as  tales  —  to  tell 
those  things  that  others  have  not  told,  to  relate  that  which 
Ave  know  ourselves,  but  which,  it  seems,  few  others  do  know» 
Inasmuch  as  a  friendly  indiscretion  has  already  told  the 
reader  the  way  in  which  we  obtained  the  precious  books 
and  original  and  rare  sources  from  which  we  drew  the  facts 
we  have  already  related  and  are  now  about  to  relate,  this 
is  the  moment  to  acknowledge  all  we  owe  to  the  kind  com- 
munication of  curious  documents,  which  history  has  in  vain 
sought  to  draw  from  their  privacy.  They  have  been  to  us 
a  torch,  guiding  us  through  the  labyrinths  of  the  13th  Ven- 
démiaire, and  again  we  employ  that  torch  to  light  us 
through  those  of  the  18th  Fructidor. 

It  is  therefore  with  the  certainty  of  telling  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  that  we  begin 
this  chapter  with  the  words,  — 

"  This  is  how  things  happened." 


THE    TEMPLE.  223; 

On  the  evening  of  the  17th  Adjutant-general  Ramel, 
after  visiting  his  posts,  went  to  take  the  orders  of  the  com- 
mittee of  the  Councils,  which  was,  as  we  have  said,  to 
remain  in  session  through  the  night.  He  had  been  present 
at  the  scene  in  his  own  house  when  Pichegru,  prevented 
by  his  colleagues  from  taking  the  initiative,  warned  them 
of  what  would  happen,  and  then,  with  his  accustomed 
indifference,  being  able  to  flee,  and  escape  the  persecution 
he  foresaw,  did  nothing  and  allowed  himself  to  float  on  the 
current  of  his  destiny. 

When  Pichegru  had  left  the  room  the  other  deputies 
strengthened  each  other  in  their  belief  that  the  Directory 
would  not  dare  to  attack  them,  or  if  it  did,  the  danger  was 
not  immediate,  and  need  not  be  feared  for  some  days  yet. 
Ramel  even  heard,  before  he  left  the  meeting  to  attend  to 
his  duties,  certain  of  the  deputies  (among  them  "Emery, 
Matthieu  Dumas,  Vaublanc,  Tronçon  de  Coudray,  and 
Thibaudeau)  complaining  of  the  needless  fears  thus  com- 
municated to  the  public. 

The  consequence  was  that  when  General  Ramel,  later  in 
the  evening,  went  to  the  committee  for  his  orders,  he  was 
told  to  do  that  night  as  he  had  done  on  preceding  nights, 
and  would  probably  do  on  the  morrow.  He  therefore 
returned  to  his  quarters,  and  contented  himself  with  making 
sure  that  his  grenadiers  were  prepared,  in  case  of  an  alarm, 
to  spring  to  arms  at  once. 

Two  hours  later,  that  is,  about  one  in  the  morning,  he 
received  an  order  from  the  minister  of  war,  to  go  to  him 
immediately.  He  rushed  first  to  the  committee-room,  where 
only  one  member,  Rovère,  was  stationed.  He  found  him 
lying  down,  and  told  him  of  the  order  he  had  just  received, 
pointing  out  the  mysterious  importance  of  it  at  that  hour  of 
the  night.  Ramel  added  that  he  was  informed  of  the 
approach  of  several  columns  of  troops  upon  Paris. 

But  all  these  threatening  signs  were  lost  on  Rovère,  who 
declared  he  was  perfectly  easy  in  mind,  and  had  several 
very  excellent  reasons  for  continuing  so. 


224  THE    FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

Ramel,  on  leaving  the  committee-room,  met  the  com- 
mandant of  cavalry,  who  shared  with  him  the  duty  of 
guarding  the  Councils.  The  latter  told  Ramel  that  he  had 
drawn  in  his  pickets  and  had  posted  his  troop  beyond  the 
bridges,  also  the  two  pieces  of  cannon,  hitherto  stationed  in 
the  great  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries. 

" How  could  you  do  so,"  asked  Ramel,  "when  I  gave  you 
express  orders  to  the  contrary  ?  " 

"  General,  it  is  not  my  fault,"  said  the  commandant.  "  The 
commander-in-chief  Augereau  gave  these  orders  himself,  and 
the  cavalry  were  forced  to  obey." 

Ramel  turned  back  into  the  committee-room,  and 
implored  Rovère  to  summon  his  colleagues,  relating  all 
that  he  had  just  heard.  But  Rovère  obstinately  clung  to 
his  confidence  and  replied  that  these  movements  of  the 
troops  meant  nothing  ;  that  he  Avas  already  informed  of 
them,  and  that  several  other  corps  would  cross  the  bridges 
early  in  the  morning  for  practice  manoeuvres.  Ramel,  he 
said,  might  be  perfectly  easy  ;  his,  Rovère's,  informers  could 
be  relied  on,  and  Ramel  might  safely  obey  the  summons 
of  the  minister  of  war. 

The  fear  of  being  separated  from  his  troops  kept  Ramel 
from  obeying.  He  went  back  to  his  quarters,  but  did  not 
undress  or  lie  down,  and  waited  with  his  arms  at  hand. 

At  three  in  tlie  morning  a  former  garde-du-corps  with 
whom  he  had  been  very  intimate  in  the  Ai-my  of  the 
Pyrenees,  named  Poinçot,  came  to  him  from  General 
Lemoine,  bringing  a  note  couched  in  the  following 
terms  :  — 

"  General  Lemoine  summons,  in  the  name  of  the  Directory,  the 
commander  of  the  guard  of  the  Legislative  body  to  give  passage 
over  the  drawbridge  to  a  cohimn  of  five  thousand  men  charged  with 
the  execution  of  the  orders  of  the  government." 

"  I  am  astonished,"  said  Ramel,  "  that  an  old  comrade, 
who  ought  to  know  me,  should  bring  me  an  order  which 
I  cannot  obey  without  dishonoring  myself." 


THE   TEMPLE.  225 

*'  Do  as  you  think  best,"  said  Poinçot,  "  but  I  warn  you  that 
resistance  will  be  useless.  Eight  hundred  of  your  grenadiers 
are  already  surrounded  by  forty  pieces  of  cannon." 

"  I  can  receive  no  orders  except  from  the  Legislative 
body,"  cried  Ramel. 

Again  he  rushed  to  the  Tuileries.  A  cannon  was  fired 
so  near  him  that  he  felt  sure  it  was  the  signal  for  attack. 
On  the  way  he  met  two  of  his  officers,  Ponsard  and 
Fléchard,  excellent  men  in  whom  he  had  the  utmost 
confidence. 

When  he  once  more  reached  the  committee-room,  he 
found  there  Generals  Pichegru  and  Villot.  He  sent  order- 
lies at  once  to  summon  General  Matthieu  Dumas  and  the 
presidents  of  the  Councils,  Laffon-Ladebat,  and  Simeon  ; 
he  also  notified  the  deputies  whose  lodgings  were  nearest 
the  Tuileries. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  gate  to  the  drawbridge 
was  forced,  and  the  divisions  of  Augereau  and  Lemoine 
formed  a  junction.  The  garden  of  the  Tuileries  was 
crowded  with  troops  ;  a  battery  was  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  windows  of  the  hall  where  the  Council  of  the  Ancients 
held  its  sittings  ;  all  the  avenues  leading  to  the  palace 
were  closed  ;  all  posts  were  doubled  and  masked  by 
superior  forces. 

We  have  already  told  how  the  door  of  the  committee- 
room  or  hall  was  forced  open  and  a  flood  of  soldiers  with 
Augereau  at  their  head  invaded  it,  and  also  how,  not  one 
of  them  daring  to  lay  a  hand  on  Pichegru,  Augereau  him- 
self committed  that  sacrilege,  knocking  down  and  binding 
the  man  who  had  been  his  general.  And  we  also  said 
that  after  Pichegru  was  captured  no  further  resistance 
was  offered.  Whereupon  the  order  was  given  to  conduct 
the  prisoners  to  the  Temple. 

The  three  Directors  were  still  in  session,  assisted  by  the 
minister  of  police,  who  having  ordered  his  posters  bear- 
ing the  manifesto  to  be  affixed  to  the  walls  of  Paris,  had 
returned  to  keep  them  company. 

VOL.  II.  — 15 


226  THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

The  minister  of  police,  Sothin,  advised  that  the  prison- 
ers should  be  instantly  shot  in  the  garden  of  the  Luxembourg. 
Rewbell  agreed  with  him  ;  and  the  gentle  La  Revelliève- 
Lepeaux,  that  man  of  peace  who  was  always  on  the  side 
of  merc}^,  prepared  to  give  the  fatal  order,  saying,  as 
Cicero  said  of  Lentulus  and  Cythegus  :  ''  They  have 
lived." 

Barras  alone  —  and  this  is  a  justice  we  are  bound  to  do 
him  —  opposed  the  measure  with  all  his  strength,  declaring 
that  unless  they  put  him  in  prison  during  the  execution  he 
would  fling  himself  between  the  prisoners  and  the  balls. 

Finally,  a  deputy  named  Guillemardet  who  had  made 
friends  with  the  Directors  by  adopting  their  views,  pro- 
posed, as  he  said,  *'  to  be  done  with  it  "  by  transporting 
the  prisoners  to  Cayenne. 

That  amendment  was  voted  by  acclamation. 

The  minister  of  police  thought  he  owed  Barthélémy  the 
attention  of  conducting  him  himself  to  the  Temple.  We 
have  already  said  that  Barthelemy's  servant,  Letellier, 
asked  to  follow  him.  The  request  was  denied  at  first, 
then  granted. 

"  Who  is  that  man  ?  "  asked  Augereau. 

"  A  friend  of  mine,"  said  Barthélémy  ;  "  he  wishes  to  go 
with  me  and  —  " 

"  He  won't  be  so  ready,"  interrupted  Augereau,  "  when 
he  finds  out  where  you  are  going." 

"  Beg  pardon,  citizen  general,"  said  Letellier;  "  wherever 
my  master  goes,  I  shall  want  to  go." 

"  Even  to  the  scaffold  ?  "  asked  Augereau. 

"  Especially  to  the  scaffold,"  answered  the  man. 

By  dint  of  prayers  and  entreaties,  the  wives  of  the 
exiled  men  were  allowed  to  see  them  in  prison.  Every 
step  those  women  took  through  the  courtyards  where  so 
lately  a  queen  of  France  had  suffered  all  things  was 
torture  to  them.  Drunken  soldiers  assailed  them  with 
insults  and  threats. 

"  Ha  !   do  you  come  to  see  those  beggars  ?  "  cried  one, 


THE   TEMPLE.  227 

pointing  to  the  prisoners.  "  Make  haste  and  say  good-bye 
to-day,  for  they  '11  be  shot  to-morrow." 

Pichegru,  as  we  have  already  said,  was  not  married. 
When  he  came  to  Paris  he  had  not  been  willing  to  trans- 
plant his  poor  Kose,  to  whom,  as  we  remember,  he  sent 
his  savings  in  the  form  of  an  umbrella,  which  was  joyfully 
received.  Having  no  wife  of  his  own  to  visit  him,  he  met 
the  wives  of  his  colleagues,  and  took  in  his  arms  the  little 
son  of  Delarue,  who  was  weeping. 

"  Why  do  you  cry,  my  little  man  ?  "  said  Pichegru,  kiss- 
ing the  child,  with  tears  in  his  own  eyes. 

"  Because,"  said  the  boy,  "  the  wicked  soldiers  have 
taken  away  my  little  papa." 

"  You  are  right,  my  poor  child,"  said  Pichegru,  looking 
at  those  who  were  looking  at  him,  with  a  glance  of  con- 
tempt. "  They  are  wicked  soldiers  ;  good  soldiers  are 
never  executioners." 

The  same  day  Augereau  wrote  as  follows  to  General 
Bonaparte  :  — 

At  last,  general,  my  mission  is  accomplished,  and  the  promises 
of  the  Army  of  Italy' are  redeemed. 

The  Directory  had  resolved  on  a  vigorous  blow,  but  the  time  for 
it  was  still  uncertain,  the  preparations  were  incomplete,  but  the  fear 
of  being  forestalled  hastened  the  measure  at  the  last.  At  midnight 
I  sent  orders  to  all  the  troops  to  march  to  the  points  designated. 
Before  daylight  all  those  points  and  all  the  principal  squares  were 
occupied  by  cannon  ;  at  daybreak  the  balls  of  the  two  Councils 
were  surrounded,  the  Guards  of  the  Directory  fraternized  with  my 
troops,  and  the  members  of  the  Legislative  body  whose  names  I 
send  you  were  arrested  and  taken  to  the  Temple. 

We  are  pursuing  others. 

Carnot  has  disappeared. 

Paris  is  calm  ;  astonished  at  a  crisis  which  all  expected 
would  be  terrible,  but  which  has  passed  oflE  like  a  fête. 

Those  robust  patriots  of  the  faubourgs  are  the  pledge  of  the 
Republic's  safety  ;  the  black  collars  are  under  ground. 

It  now  depends  on  the  wise  vigor  of  the  Directory  and  th« 
patriots  in  the  two  Cotmcils  to  do  the  rest. 


228  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

The  locality  of  the  sessions  has  been  changed  ;  their  first  acts 
promise  well.  This  event  is  a  great  step  toward  peace  ;  it  is  for 
you  to  cross  the  distance  which  still  separates  you  from  Paris. 

Don't  forget  the  bill  of  exchange  for  twenty-five  thousand  francs. 
This  is  urgent. 

AUGKREAU. 

The  list  enclosed  contained  seventy-four  names. 


THE   CONDEMNED   MEN.  229 


XXXII. 


THE    CONDEMNED    MEN. 


The  Temple  held  memories  for  most  of  those  who  were 
now  conducted  there  which  were  not  altogether  devoid  of 
political  remorse.  Some  among  them,  having  sent  Louis 
XVI.  to  its  cells,  opened  them  again  to  send  him  to  the 
scaffold.  Several  of  the  men  about  to  be  transported  were 
regicides. 

Free  to  move  about  after  they  were  once  within  the  walls, 
they  now  clustered  around  Pichegru  as  the  most  important 
personality  in  their  midst.  Pichegru,  who  had  nothing  to 
reproach  himself  with  in  regard  to  Louis  XVI.,  but  who, 
on  the  contrary,  was  now  punished  for  the  pity  he  had  felt 
for  the  Bourbons,  Pichegru,  archaeologist,  historian,  and 
man  of  letters,  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  party  who 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  visit  the  apartments  in  the  tower. 

Lavilleheurnois,  formerly  master  of  petitions  under  Louis 
XVI.,  secretly  agent  of  the  Bourbons  during  the  Revolu- 
tion, accomplice  with  Brotier-Deprèle  in  a  conspiracy 
against  the  government,  was  their  guide. 

"  This  was  the  room  of  the  unfortunate  Louis  XVI.,"  he 
said,  opening  the  door  of  the  apartment  in  which  the 
august  prisoner  had  been  confined. 

Rovère,  the  same  who  had  talked  with  Ramel  and 
assured  him  there  was  nothing  to  fear  in  the  movement 
of  the  troops,  Rovère,  formerly  lieutenant  of  Jourdan 
Ooupe-Tete,  who  had  made  a  defence  of  the  massacre  of  La 
Glacière  before  the  legislative  assembly,  could  not  endure 
the  sight  ;  striking  his  forehead  with  both  hands  he 
withdrew. 


230  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

Pichegru,  as  calm  as  though  he  were  still  in  command  of 
the  Army  of  the  Rhine,  deciphered  the  inscriptions  written 
in  pencil  on  the  woodwork  and  with  a  diamond  on  the 
window-panes.     He  read  the  following  :  — 

"  O  God  !  pardon  those  who  have  made  my  parents  die." 
"  O  my  brother  !  watch  over  me  from  heaven." 
"  May  the  French  people  be  happy  !  " 

There  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  hand  that  wrote  those  lines  ; 
but  Pichegru  wished  to  assure  himself  of  the  truth. 

Lavilleheurnois  told  him  that  he  recognized  the  band- 
writing  of  Madame  Royale  ;  but  Pichegru  sent  for  the 
concierge,  who  assured  him  that  it  was  indeed  the  august 
daughter  of  Louis  XVI.  from  whose  Christian  heart  those 
wishes  had  emanated. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  pray  you  do  not  efface  those 
lines.  I  have  made  a  vow  that  so  long  as  I  am  here  no  one 
shall  touch  them," 

"  Right,  my  friend  ;  you  are  an  honest  man,"  said 
Pichegru,  while  Delarue  wrote  beneath  the  words,  "  May 
the  French  people  be  happy,"  these  other  words  :  "  Heaven 
will  grant  the  prayers  of  the  innocent." 

Isolated  from  the  world  as  they  were,  the  prisoners  never- 
theless had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  several  proofs  that 
they  were  not  completely  neglected.  On  the  evening  of 
the  18th  Fructidor,  as  the  wife  of  one  of  them  was  leaving 
the  Temple,  where  she  had  been  allowed  to  visit  her  hus- 
band, she  was  accosted  by  a  man  she  did  not  know. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  "  you  belong,  no  doubt,  to  one  of 
those  unhappy  men  arrested  this  morning  ?  " 

''  Alas,  yes,  monsieur,"  she  replied. 

"  Then  permit  me,  whoever  he  may  be,  to  make  him  a 
small  advance,  which  he  can  repay  in  happier  days." 

So  saying,  he  put  three  rouleaux  of  louis-d'or  into  her 
hand. 

An  old  man,  whom  Madame  Laffon-Ladebat  did  not  know, 
called  upon  her  on  the  morning  of  the  19th  Fructidor. 


THE   CONDEMNED   MEN.  231 

"Madame,"  he  said,  ''I  have  vowed  to  your  husband  all 
the  respect  and  all  the  friendship  he  deserves.  Be  pleased 
to  convey  to  him  these  fifty  .louis.  1  am  distressed  that  I 
can  only  send  at  this  moment  this  paltry  sum." 

Then,  seeing  her  hesitation,  and  guessing  its  cause,  he 
added  :  — 

"Madame,  your  delicacy  need  not  suffer.  I  am  only 
lending  this  money  to  your  husband.  He  will  return  it  to 
me  some  day." 

Nearly  all  these  men,  condemned  to  transportation  to  a 
dreadful  penal  colony,  were  fulfilling  the  highest  offices 
under  the  Republic,  either  as  generals  or  as  ministers,  on 
the  18th  Fructidor,  and  yet,  and  this  is  worthy  of  remark, 
all  of  them  were  indigent.  Pichegru,  the  poorest  of  all, 
on  the  day  of  the  arrest,  hearing  that  he  was  not  to  be 
executed  but  simply  transported,  began  to  trouble  himself 
about  the  fate  of  his  brother  and  sister,  whose  sole  support 
he  was. 

As  for  poor  Rose,  we  know  that,  thanks  to  her  needle, 
she  earned  her  living,  and  so  was  the  richest  among  them. 
If  she  had  known  how  the  blow  had  fallen  on  her  friend, 
she  would  assuredly  have  hastened  from  Besançon  and 
given  him  her  purse.  That  which  chiefly  worried  this  man 
who  had  saved  France  upon  the  Rhine,  who  had  conquered 
Holland  the  richest  of  all  provinces,  who  had  handled 
millions  and  refused  millions  rather  than  sell  himself,  — and 
all  this  while,  remember,  they  accused  him  of  receiving  a 
million  in  money  and  the  principality  of  Ardois  with  two 
hundred  thousand  francs  income,  one  half  reversible  to  his 
wife  and  children,  together  with  the  château  of  Chambord 
lind  twelve  cannon  taken  by  him  from  the  enemy,  —  what 
worried  this  man  chiefly,  this  man  who  was  not  married 
and  had  no  children,  this  man  who  had  given  himself  for 
nothing  when  he  might  have  sold  himself  for  so  much,  was 
a  trumpery  debt  of  six  hundred  francs  which  he  was. 
unable  to  pay  ! 

He  sent  for  his  brother  and  sister  and  said  to  the  latter,  — ■ 


232  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  You  will  find  in  the  lodgings  I  occupied  the  coat,  hat, 
and  sword  with  which  I  conquered  Holland.  Put  them  up 
for  sale  with  this  inscription  :  Coat,  hat,  and  sword  of 
Pichegru,  sent  to  2^&nal  servitude  at   Cayenne" 

His  sister  did  as  she  was  told,  and  the  next  day  she  came 
to  comfort  him  and  tell  him  that  a  pious  hand  had  paid 
the  six  hundred  francs  for  the  three  articles  and  he  was 
clear  of  debt. 

Barthélémy,  one  of  the  most  important  men  of  the  epoch, 
politically  speaking,  for  he  had  made  with  Spain  and 
Prussia  the  first  treaties  of  the  new  Republic,  Barthélémy, 
who  could  have  asked  and  received  a  million  from  each  of 
those  powers,  owned  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  farm  which 
brought  him  in  eight  hundred  francs  a  year. 

Villot  at  the  time  of  his  transportation  possessed  but  one 
thousand  francs.  Eight  days  earlier  he  had  lent  them  to  a 
man  who  called  himself  his  friend  and  who,  at  the  moment 
of  his  departure,  found  means  to  avoid  paying  them. 

Lalîon-Ladébat,  who  after  the  proclamation  of  the 
Republic  forgot  his  own  interests  in  those  of  his  country, 
after  having  possessed  an  immense  fortune,  could  scarcely 
get  together  five  hundred  francs  when  he  heard  of  his 
condemnation.  His  children,  whom  he  charged  to  liquidate 
his  fortune  and  pay  his  debts,  were  penniless. 

Delarue  supported  his  old  father  and  all  his  family. 
Rich  before  the  Revolution,  but  entirely  ruined  by  it,  he 
owed  to  friendship  the  succor  he  received  on  departing. 
His  father,  a  man  of  seventy,  was  inconsolable,  and  yet 
his  grief  was  powerless  to  kill  him  ;  he  lived  on  in  the 
expectation  of  his  son's  release.  Three  months  after  the 
18th  Fructidor  word  was  brought  to  him  that  a  naval 
officer  who  had  just  returned  to  Paris  had  seen  his  son  in 
the  wilds  of  Guiana.  He  asked  to  see  and  speak  with 
him  ;  the  family  assembled  to  hear  the  tale.  The  officer 
entered  the  room.  Delarue's  father  rose  to  meet  him,  but 
at  the  moment  he  was  about  to  throw  his  arms  around 
his  neck  excitement  killed  him   and  he  fell  dead  at  the 


THE   CONDEMNED   MEN.  233 

feet  of  him  who  had  just  said  to  him  :  "  I  have  seen 
your  son." 

As  for  Tronçon  du  Coudray,  he  had  lived  on  a  salary,  and 
was  penniless  after  his  arrest,  and  went  into  exile  with  two 
louis  for  his  whole  fortune. 

Perhaps  I  am  wrong,  but  it  does  seem  to  me  right  — 
inasmuch  as  the  historians  neglect  this  duty  —  that  the 
novel-writer  should  follow,  step  by  step,  the  revolutions 
and  the  coups  cV Etats,  and  show  to  future  ages  that  it  is 
not  always  those  to  whom  statues  are  erected  who  are  the 
most  worthy  of  honor  and  resjaect. 

Augereau,  having  arrested  these  prisoners,  was  now 
charged  with  the  duty  of  guarding  them.  He  appointed 
as  their  immediate  gaoler  a  man  who,  it  was  said,  had 
lately  left  the  galleys  at  Toulon,  to  which  he  had  been 
sentenced  by  court-martial  for  theft,  assassination,  and 
incendiarism,  committed  in  La  Vendée. 

The  prisoners  remained  in  the  Temple  from  the  morning 
of  the  18th  Fructidor  till  the  night  of  the  21st  Fructidor. 
At  midnight  the  gaoler  woke  them  up  telling  them  they 
were  to  start  at  once  and  had  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  make 
ready.  Pichegru,  who  retained  his  old  habit  of  sleeping  in 
his  clothes,  was  ready  first,  and  went  round  from  room  to 
room  to  hurry  his  companions.  He  was  the  first  to  go 
downstairs  and  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  he  found  the 
Director  Barthélémy  between  General  Augereau  and  So- 
thin,  the  minister  of  police,  who  had  brought  him  to  the 
Temple  in  his  own  carriage.  Barthélémy  thanked  Sothin 
for  this  attention,  to  which  the  minister  replied  :  — 

'•'  We  all  know  what  a  revolution  is  ;  to-day  it  is  your 
turn,  to-morrow  it  may  be  mine." 

Then,  as  Barthélémy,  more  anxious  for  the  nation  than 
he  was  for  himself,  asked  if  anything  alarming  had 
happened,  and  whether  the  public  tranquillity  was  dis- 
turbed, Sothin  answered  :  — 

**  No  ;  the  people  have  swallowed  the  pill  ;  the  dose  was 
a  strong  one  and  it  worked  all   right."     Then,  seeing  all 


234  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

the  other  prisoners  now  assembled  at  the  foot  of  the  tower, 
he  added,  "  Gentlemen,  I  wish  you  a  good  journey." 

Getting  into  his  carriage  he  drove  away. 

Augereau  then  called  the  roll  of  the  condemned  men. 
As  each  name  was  called  a  guard  took  the  prisoner  through 
a  hedge  of  soldiers,  who  insulted  him  as  he  passed.  Some 
of  these  soldiers,  these  bastards  of  the  gutter,  always  ready 
to  kick  those  who  fall,  tried  to  get  at  the  prisoners  as  they 
passed  and  strike  their  faces  ;  some  did  tear  their  clothes 
and  fling  mud  upon  them. 

"  Why  do  you  let  them  go  ?  "  they  cried.  "  You 
promised  us  to  shoot  them  1  " 

<'  My  dear  general,"  said  Pichegru,  as  he  passed  Augereau, 
emphasizing  the  word  general,  "  if  you  made  that  promise 
to  these  worthy  fellows  you  ought  to  keep  it." 


THE   JOURNEY.  235 


XXXIII. 

THE    JOURNEY. 

Four  carriages,  or  rather  waggons,  on  four  wheels,  forming 
cages  closed  on  all  siiles  with  iron  bars,  against  which  the 
luckless  men  were  thrown  with  every  jolt,  received  the  six- 
teen prisoners.  They  were  placed  four  and  four  in  these 
vehicles,  no  attention  being  paid  to  their  weakness  or  to 
their  wounds.  Some  had  received  sabre-cuts  ;  others  were 
bruised  and  injured  either  by  the  soldiers  who  arrested  them 
or  by  the  popultice,  who  are  always  of  opinion  that  fallen 
men  cannot  suffer  enough. 

To  each  vehicle  and  each  group  of  four  men,  one  guard 
was  detailed,  who  carried  the  key  of  the  padlock  which  fas- 
tened the  barred  door  of  the  cage.  General  Dutertre 
commanded  the  escort,  which  consisted  of  four  hundred 
infantry,  two  hundred  cavalr}»-,  and  two  pieces  of  artillery. 
Each  time  that  the  prisoners  were  taken  out  of  their  cages, 
or  put  back  into  them,  the  cannon  were  pointed  diagonally 
at  the  vehicles,  one  piece  to  sweep  two  cages,  and  the  gun- 
ners stood  by  with  lighted  matches  ready  to  fire  on  all  those 
who  might  try  to  escape,  and  those  who  did  not. 

The  22d  Fructidor  (September  4,  1797),  at  one  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  march  began  in  dreadful  weather.  It 
crossed  all  Paris,  starting  from  the  Temple  to  the  Barrière 
de  l'Enfer  and  taking  the  road  to  Orléans.  But  instead  of 
following  the  rue  Saint-Jacques,  the  escort,  after  passing 
the  bridge,  turned  to  the  right  and  marched  the  procession 
to  the  Luxembourg. 

A  ball  was  given  that  night  by  the  three  Directors,  or 
rather  by  Barras,  at  Avhich  the  two  others  were  present. 
Barras,  informed  of  the  arrival  of  the  procession,  went  out 


236  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Oil  the  balcony  with  his  guests,  pointing  out  to  them 
Pichegru,  three  days  earlier  the  rival  of  Moreau,  Hoche,  and 
Bonaparte,  Barthélémy,  his  own  colleague,  Villot,  Delarue, 
Ramel,  those  whom  a  trick  of  fortune  or  an  oversight  of 
Providence  had  put  in  his  power.  Amid  the  noisy  laughter 
of  the  company,  the  prisoners  heard  Barras  exhort  Dutertre, 
Augereau's  henchman,  to  "  take  good  care  of  those  gentle- 
men ;"  to  which  Dutertre  responded  : — 

"  Never  fear,  general." 

We  shall  soon  see  what  Barras  meant  by  the  words  "  Take 
good  care  of  those  gentlemen." 

During  this  time  the  populace,  issuing  from  the  club  of 
the  Odeon,  had  surrounded  the  vehicles,  and  as  they  were 
denied  the  privilege  they  clamored  for  of  tearing  the 
prisoners  to  pieces,  they  were  gratified  and  consoled  by 
pots  of  fire  being  placed  about  the  carriages,  so  that  the 
crowd  might  look  their  fill  at  the  inmates. 

So,  amid  cries  of  death  and  shouts  of  rage,  the  four  cages 
filed  through  the  rue  de  l'Enfer  and  left  Paris. 

At  two  in  the  afternoon  they  had  gone  twenty-four  miles 
only,  and  were  at  Arpajon.  Barthélémy  and  Barbé-Marbois, 
the  weakest  of  the  prisoners,  were  lying  •  on  the  floor,  face 
down,  apparently  exhausted. 

Hearing  that  the  day's  march  was  over,  the  prisoners 
hoped  they  might  be  taken  to  a  suitable  prison  where  they 
could  get  a  few  hours'  rest.  But  the  commander  of  the 
escort  ordered  them  to  be  thrust  in  among  thieves  and  crimi- 
nals, watching  their  faces,  and  rejoicing  in  the  disgust  the 
unhappy  men  showed  as  they  entered.  The  first  carriage, 
however,  contained  Pichegru,  on  whose  face  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  read  the  slightest  expression.  He  merely  said,  when 
he  approached  the  sort  of  hole  he  was  ordered  to  pass 
through  :  — 

''  If  this  is  a  stairway,  light  it  up;  if  it  is  a  pit,  tell  me 
at  once." 

It  was  a  stairway  with  several  broken  stairs.  Pichegru's 
calmness  exasperated  Dutertre. 


THE    JOUKNEY.  237 

"  Ah  !  scoundrel,"  he  said,  "  do  you  dare  to  brave  me  ? 
Eut  before  I  've  done  with  you  we  '11  see  if  I  can't  put  an 
end  to  your  insolence." 

Pichegru,  who  went  down  first,  called  to  his  companions 
that  there  was  straw  to  lie  upon,  and  he  thanked  Dutertre 
for  it  ;  but  —  the  straw  was  soaked,  the  dungeon  was  foul 
and  fetid  ! 

Barthélémy  came  down  next.  Exhausted,  and  feeling 
that  he  must  rest  instantly,  he  lay  down  in  the  icy  water  ; 
then  he  half  rose  and  raised  his  hands  to  heaven,  murmur- 
ing, "  My  God  !  my  God  !  " 

Barbe-Marbois  was  lifted  to  the  stairway,  held  up  by  his 
arms.  As  the  mephitic  odor  of  the  dungeon  reached  him 
he  drew  back,  saying  :  — 

"  Shoot  me  at  once,  and  spare  me  the  horror  of  such 
misery." 

But  the  wife  of  the  gaoler,  who  was  following  behind 
him,  exclaimed  :  — 

"  You  are  mighty  particular  ;  many  better  men  than  you 
don't  make  such  a  fuss." 

So  saying,  she  shoved  him  by  the  arm  and  threw  him 
head  foremost  down  the  staircase.  Villot,  who  came  behind, 
heard  Barbé-Marbois's  cry  as  he  fell,  and  that  of  his  two  com- 
panions already  below,  and  he  seized  the  woman  round  her 
neck. 

"  By  Heaven  !  "  he  cried,  "  I  've  a  great  mind  to  strangle 
her." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Pichegru,  "  let  her  be,  and  come  down 
here." 

They  had  raised  Barbe-Marbois  ;  his  face  was  bruised  and 
his  jaw  broken.  The  three  others  called  for  a  surgeon,  but 
no  attention  was  paid  to  them.  Then  they  asked  for  water 
to  wash  his  wounds,  but  the  door  was  closed  upon  them 
and  not  opened  again  for  two  hours,  when  a  loaf  of  bread 
and  a  pitcher  of  water  was  put  in  for  their  dinner. 

All  of  them  were  very  thirsty,  but  Pichegru,  accustomed 
to  privations,  offered  his  share  of  the  water  to  bathe  Barbé- 


238  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Marbois's  wounds.  His  fellow-prisoners  would  not  allow  it. 
and  the  quantity  needed  Avas  taken  out  first  from  the  share 
of  all.  As  Barbe-Marbois  could  not  eat,  his  portion  of  the 
bread  was  divided  among  the  rest. 

The  next  day,  23d  Fructidor  (September  5th),  the  march 
was  resumed  at  seven  in  the  morning,  without  any  inquiry 
as  to  the  condition  of  the  prisoners,  or  any  notice  taken  of 
their  requests  for  a  surgeon.  By  mid-day  they  reached 
Etampes.  Dutertre  halted  in  the  middle  of  the  market-place 
to  expose  the  prisoners  to  the  insults  of  the  populace,  who 
were  allowed  to  surround  the  vehicles  and  improve  the 
opportunity  to  howl  and  curse  and  fling  mud  upon  men  of 
whose  crime  they  were  wholly  ignorant,  but  who  were  crimi- 
nals in  their  eyes  by  the  sole  fact  that  they  were  prisoners. 
The  condemned  men  asked  to  be  driven  on,  or  allowed  to 
get  out  and  be  taken  under  shelter.  Both  requests  were 
refused.  One  of  the  prisoners.  Tronçon  du  Coudray,  was 
the  deputy  of  the  department,  that  of  the  Seine-et-Oise  ; 
and  this  was  the  very  district  from  which  the  inhabitants 
had  unanimously  elected  him  with  the  utmost  ardor.  He 
therefore  felt  all  the  more  keenly  the  ingratitude  and  deser- 
tion of  his  fellow-citizens.  Rising  suddenly,  as  if  in  the 
tribune,  and  answering  those  who  called  him  by  name,  -r- 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,"  he  said,  "  I,  myself,  your  representative. 
Do  you  recognize  him  in  this  iron  cage  ?  I  am  he  whom 
you  selected  to  support  your  rights.  In  my  person  those 
rights  are  violated.  I  am  dragged  to  punishment  without 
being  tried,  without  being  even  accused.  My  crime  is  that 
of  i^rotecting  your  liberties,  your  property,  your  persons  ;  it 
is  that  of  endeavoring  to  give  peace  to  France  ;  in  other 
words,  to  restore  your  children,  now  decimated  by  foreign 
bayonets,  to  your  arms  ;  my  crime  is  to  have  been  faithful 
to  the  Constitution  we  all  have  sworn  ;  and  to-day,  in 
return  for  my  zeal  in  serving  you,  behold,  you  make  common 
cause  with  our  butchers.  You  are  cowardly  wretches, 
unworthy  to  be  represented  by  an  honest  man." 

He  was  silent.     The  crowd  were  stupefied  for  a  moment  i 


THE   JOURNEY.  239 

silenced  by  that  vehement  address.  Then  they  renewed 
their  insults,  which  redoubled  when  the  guards  brought  the 
prisoners  their  dinner,  which  consisted  of  four  loaves  of 
bread  and  four  bottles  of  wine. 

This  pillory  lasted  three  hours. 

That  night  they  reached  Angerville,  where  Dutertre 
wished  to  drive  the  prisoners  into  a  dungeon  as  he  had  done 
the  night  before.  But  an  adjutant-general  (curiously 
enough,  his  name  was  Augereau)  took  upon  himself  to  lodge 
them  in  an  inn,  where  they  passed  a  tolerable  night  and 
where  Barbe-Marbois  was  able  to  obtain  a  surgeon. 

On  the  24th  Fructidor  they  reached  Orléans  early,  and 
spent  the  rest  of  that  day  and  the  following  night  in  an  old 
convent,  formerly  that  of  the  Ursulines.  During  this  time 
the  prisoners  were  not  guarded  by  their  escort,  but  by  the 
gendarmerie,  who,  while  strictly  obeying  orders,  showed 
them  the  utmost  humanity. 

Here  they  recognized,  in  the  disguise  of  servant-women, 
two  women  of  society  who  had  put  on  common  clothes  and 
passed  as  peasants,  in  order  to  bring  them  help  and  money. 
These  ladies  proposed  to  Villot  and  Delarue  to  help  them 
to  escape  ;  they  were  able,  they  said,  to  release  two  prisoners, 
but  not  more. 

Villot  and  Delarue  refused,  fearing  that  their  escape 
might  aggravate  the  sufferings  of  their  colleagues.  The 
names  of  those  angels  of  mercy  are  forgotten  ;  to  have  named 
them  at  that  period  would  have  been  to  denounce  them. 
History  now  and  then  is  filled  with  regrets  that  cause  a 
sigh. 

The  next  day  they  reached  Blois.  Before  entering  the 
town  they  encountered  a  crowd  of  boatmen,  who  tried  to 
break  the  iron  bars  of  the  carriages  and  murder  the  men 
within  them.  But  the  captain  in  command  of  the  cavalry, 
who  was  named  Gauthier  (history  has  preserved  that  name 
as  well  as  that  of  Dutertre),  made  a  sign  to  the  prisoners  to 
fear  nothing.  He  took  forty  of  his  men  and  rode  over  and 
knocked  down  the  whole  mob. 


240  THE   FIKST   EEPUBLIC. 

But  though  murder  was  not  committed,  the  insults  were 
furious.  The  terms  "  villains/'  "  regicides,"  "  monopolists," 
were  blindly  shouted  by  the  angry  populace,  through  whom 
the  procession  passed  to  a  little  church,  very  damp,  where 
the  prisoners  passed  the  night  on  the  stone  floor  spread 
with  a  little  straw. 

As  they  entered  the  church  the  violent  hustling  of  the 
crowd  enabled  some  of  the  populace  to  get  close  to  the 
prisoners,  and  Pichegru  felt  a  paper  slipped  into  his  hand. 
As  soon  as  the  prisoners  were  left  alone  in  the  church  he 
read  the  note  which  was  as  follows  :  — 

General,  —  It  only  depends  on  you  to  leave  the  church  where 
you  now  are  ;  mount  a  horse,  and  escape  with  a  passport  which  is 
ready  for  you.  If  you  consent,  go  up  to  the  sentry  who  is  guarding 
you,  taking  care  to  put  your  hat  on  your  head  ;  that  is  the  sign  of 
your  consent.  Then  hold  yourself  ready  between  midnight  and  two 
o'clock,  and  watch. 

Pichegru  walked  up  to  the  sentinel  bareheaded.  He  who 
wished  to  save  him  gave  him  a  glance  of  admiration,  and 
walked  away. 


THE   EMBARKATION.  241 


XXXIV. 


THE   EMBARKATION. 


The  arrangements  for  the  departure  from  Blois  took  so 
long  that  the  prisoners  began  to  fear  they  might  be  kept 
there,  and  that  some  attack  upon  them  was  meditated. 
They  were  the  more  convinced  of  this  because  the  adjutant- 
general  commanding  the  escort  under  Dutertre,  a  man 
named  Colin,  was  known  all  over  the  country  as  having 
taken  part  in  the  massacres  of  the  2d  of  September,  and 
this  man,  with  one  of  his  companions,  named  Guillet,  whose 
reputation  was  no  better  than  his  own,  entered  the  church 
about  six  in  the  morning. 

They  seemed  to  be  excited  and  grumbled  to  each  other, 
looking  at  the  prisoners  with  malignant  smiles.  The  muni- 
cipal officer  who  had  accompanied  the  prisoners  from  Paris 
seemed  also  to  be  aware  of  some  danger.  He  went  straight 
up  to  the  two  men  and  said  firmly,  before  every  one  :  — 

"  Why  is  this  delay  ?  All  has  been  ready  some  time  ;  the 
crowd  increases  ;  your  conduct  is  more  than  suspicious. 
I  have  seen  and  heard  j^ou  endeavoring  to  excite  the  popu- 
lace, and  push  them  to  some  deed  of  violence  against  the 
prisoners.  I  declare  to  you  that  if  any  accident  happens 
to  these  men  as  they  leave  the  town,  I  will  place  my  testi- 
mony on  the  register  of  the  Municipality,  and  you  shall  be 
proceeded  against." 

The  two  villains  muttered  some  excuse  ;  the  carriages 
were  brought  up,  and  the  prisoners  were  followed  out  of 
Blois  with  the  same  imprecations  and  threats  which  had 
greeted  them  the  night  before  on  their  arrival  ;    none  of 

VOL.  II. 16 


242  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 

them,  however,  were  wounded  by  the  blows  the  wretches 
tried  to  give,  uor  by  the  stones  the}^  flung  at  them. 

At  Amboise  the  sixteen  prisoners  were  put  in  so  small  a 
cell  that  there  was  no  room  to  lie  down  on  the  straw  ; 
they  were  forced  to  remain  standing  or  sitting.  At  Tours 
they  hoped  to  obtain  some  rest,  but  were  cruelly  disap- 
pointed. The  authorities  of  the  town  had  just  gone  through 
a  severe  political  crisis  ;  they  were  still  under  the  shock  of 
terror.  The  prisoners  were  put  in  the  Conciergerie,  that 
is  to  say,  the  prison  of  the  galley-slaves.  When  they  found 
themselves  in  such  company  some  of  the  prisoners  asked 
for  a  separate  room. 

"  There  it  is  for  you,"  said  the  gaoler,  pointing  to  a  damp 
and  fetid  little  dungeon. 

The  galley-slaves  themselves  showed  more  decency  than 
the  new  magistrates  of  Tours.  One  of  them,  approaching 
the  prisoners,  said  :  — 

"  Gentlemen,  we  are  sori-y  to  see  you  put  here  ;  we  are 
not  fit  company  for  such  as  you,  but  if  we  can  do  you  any 
service  in  the  miserable  state  to  which  we  are  reduced,  be 
so  good  as  to  accept  it.  The  dungeon  they  offer  you  is 
colder  and  much  more  damp  than  ours  ;  we  beg  you  to  take 
ours,  which  is  larger  and  not  so  damp," 

Pichegru,  in  the  name  of  his  companions,  thanked  these 
unhappy  beings,  and  shaking  the  hand  of  the  one  who  had 
spoken,  he  replied  :  — 

"  It  is  among  you,  it  seems,  that  we  must  look  for  the 
hearts  of  men." 

It  was  now  thirty  hours  since  the  prisoners  had  had  any- 
thing to  eat  or  drink  ;  a  pound  of  bread  and  a  bottle  of 
wine  was  given  to  each  man  ;  it  was  a  feast  for  them. 

The  next  day  they  stopped  at  Saint-Maure.  General 
Dutertre,  finding  in  that  little  town  a  mobiliary  column  of 
the  National  Guard  made  up  of  the  peasantry,  took  advan- 
tage of  their  presence  to  rest  his  men.  who  could  scarcely 
drag  one  foot  before  the  other.  He  charged  them  with  the 
duty  of  guarding  the  prisoners,  whom  he  left  to  the  sole 


THE   EMBARKATION.  243 

responsibility  of  the  municipality;  fortunately  the  town 
had  not  just  passed  through  a  crisis  like  that  of  Tours. 

The  worthy  peasants  had  pity  on  the  unfortunate  prison- 
ers ;  they  gave  them  bread  and  wine,  so  that  each  could  eat 
to  the  extent  of  his  hunger,  and  drink  to  the  extent  of  his 
thirst.  Moreover,  they  were  not  so  closely  watched  ;  in 
fact,  the  negligence  of  these  good  people  went  so  far  as  to 
allow  the  prisoners  to  go  out  upon  the  road  ;  and  from  the 
road  they  could  see  a  forest  which  offered  them  a  chance 
of  escape.  Kamel  proposed  to  take  it  ;  but  some  refused 
on  the  ground  that  ilight  would  seem  to  admit  their  guilt  ; 
others,  because  their  escape  would  compromise  their  keepers, 
and  bring  punishment  on  the  only  men  who  had  shown  feel- 
ing for  their  distress. 

Daylight  came  before  they  slept,  for  this  discussion  lasted 
nearly  all  night  ;  the}'^  re-entered  their  cages  and  became  once 
more  the  things  of  Dutertre.  The  convoy  crossed  the  forest, 
which  the  night  before  they  had  looked  at  so  eagerly.  The 
roads  were  dreadful.  Some  of  the  prisoners  obtained  per- 
mission to  walk  between  four  of  the  cavalry  ;  Barbe-Marbois, 
Barthélémy  and  Coudray,  all  wounded  and  almost  dying, 
were  unable  to  profit  by  the  permission.  Lying  on  the 
floor  of  the  waggons,  every  jolt  of  the  vehicles  flung  them 
against  the  iron  bars  and  bruised  them  afresh  ;  in  spite  of 
their  stoicism  they  could  not  restrain  their  moans.  Bar- 
thélémy was  the  only  one  who  never  made  a  sound. 

At  Châtellerault  the  unhappy  men  were  put  in  a  dungeon 
so  intolerably  foul  that  three  of  the  prisoners  fell  asphyx- 
iated on  entering  it.  Pichegru  pushed  open  the  door  as  the 
gaolers  were  about  to  close  it,  and  catching  hold  of  a  soldier 
he  drew  him  in  to  the  back  of  the  dungeon.  The  man 
almost  fainted,  and  declared  when  he  came  to  that  it  was 
impossible  to  live  in  such  an  atmosphere.  On  that,  the 
door  was  left  open  with  sentries  before  it. 

Barbe-Marbois  was  very  ill  ;  du  Coudray,  who  took  care 
of  him,  was  sitting  on  the  straw  beside  him.  An  unfortu- 
nate creature  who  had  been  for  three  years  in  irons,  obtained 


244  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

permission  to  go  into  their  dungeon.  He  carried  them  fresh 
water,  and  offered  his  bed  to  Barbe-Marbois,  who  felt  a  little 
better  after  two  hours'  rest. 

"  Have  patience,"  said  the  man  ;  "  you  will  end  by  getting 
accustomed  to  it.  I  am  an  example  of  that  ;  I  have  lived 
three  years  in  a  dungeon  like  this." 

At  Lusignan  there  was  no  room  in  the  prison  for  the  six- 
teen prisoners.  It  was  raining  in  torrents,  with  a  cold  north 
wind.  Dutertre,  who  was  never  at  a  loss,  ordered  the  horses 
taken  out,  the  cages  well  secured,  and  the  prisoners  to  be 
left  in  them  all  night  on  the  market-place.  The  unfortu- 
nate men  had  been  there  over  an  hour  when  the  mayor  and 
the  commander  of  the  National  Guard  came  to  demand  on 
their  own  responsibility  that  the  prisoners  should  be  lodged 
in  the  inn.     They  obtained  this  favor  with  difficulty. 

No  sooner  were  the  prisoners  settled  in  three  rooms  with 
sentries  before  the  doors  and  windows,  than  they  saw  a 
courier  arriving  at  the  door  of  the  very  inn  to  which  they 
had  been  taken.  Some  of  the  poor  men  more  easily  roused 
to  hope  than  the  rest  thought  the  courier  might  have  come 
with  good  news  for  them.  At  any  rate,  all  were  sure  it  was 
news  of  some  importance. 

It  was,  in  fact,  an  order  for  the  arrest  of  General  Dutertre, 
on  account  of  his  rascality  and  theft  committed  on  this 
journey,  and  for  his  return  to  Paris  as  a  prisoner.  On  his 
person  were  found  the  eight  hundred  louis  d'or  given  to 
him  for  the  expenses  of  the  journey, — expenses  he  had 
curtailed  to  almost  nothing  ;  the  few  he  had  incurred  he 
had  managed  to  saddle  on  the  municipalities  of  the  towns 
through  which  he  passed. 

The  prisoners  heard  this  news  with  joy.  They  saw  the 
carriage  drawn  up  to  receive  him,  and  Ramel,  led  by  his 
curiosity  to  examine  the  man's  countenance,  opened  the 
window  to  see  him  more  distinctly.  Instantly  the  sentry 
fired  and  a  ball  bruised  the  crossbar  of  the  window. 

Dutertre  being  arrested,  the  command  of  the  convoy 
devolved  upon  his  second  in  command,  Colin.     But  Colin,  as 


THE    EMBARKATION.  245 

we  have  said,  was  no  better  than  Dutertre.  The  next  day 
the  mayor  of  Saint-Maixant,  where  they  halted,  having  ap- 
proached the  prisoners  and  said,  benevolently,  "  Gentlemen, 
I  feel  for  your  situation,  and  all  good  citizens  share  my 
feelings,"  Colin  caught  the  mayor  by  the  collar  and  threw 
him  to  two  soldiers  with  orders  to  put  him  in  prison. 

But  this  act  of  brutality  so  incensed  the  inhabitants  of 
the  town,  who  all  seemed  to  love  the  worthy  man,  that  they 
rose  in  a  mass  and  forced  Colin  to  release  him. 

The  thing  that  most  troubled  the  prisoners  was  that  they 
had  no  idea  where  they  were  going.  They  had  heard  some 
talk  of  Rochefort,  but  it  was  very  vague.  Deprived  of  all 
communication  with  their  friends,  they  could  obtain  no  light 
whatever  as  to  their  fate.  At  Surgères,  however,  it  was 
accidentally  revealed  to  some  of  them. 

The  mayor  of  that  place  insisted  that  the  prisoners  should 
be  lodged  in  the  inn,  which  was  done.  Pichegru,  Aubry, 
and  Delarue  were  lying  on  mattresses  on  the  floor  of  a  room 
in  the  second  story,  which  was  separated  from  the  room 
below  by  so  ill-joined  a  floor  that  they  could  see  and  hear 
all  that  went  on  beneath  them. 

The  leaders  of  the  escort,  not  aware  that  they  were  seen 
and  heard,  ordered  supper.  A  naval  officer  joined  them. 
Every  word  they  said  might  be  of  importance  to  the 
prisoners,  who  listened  attentively.  The  supper,  long  and 
plentiful,  was  gay.  The  privations  of  the  prisoners  paid 
the  costs  of  that  gayety.  At  midnight,  the  meal  being 
eaten,  the  naval  officer  suggested  that  it  was  time  to  arrange 
for  the  operation. 

The  word  ''  operation  "  excited,  as  we  can  well  believe, 
the  closest  attention  from  the  prisoners.  A  man  who  was 
unknown  to  them  and  who  seemed  to  be  a  secretary,  brought 
pens,  ink,  and  paper,  and  began  to  write  at  Colin's  dictation. 
The  document  proved  to  be  a  procès-verbal  stating  that,  in 
conformity  with  the  last  orders  of  the  Directory,  the 
prisoners  had  been  taken  from  their  cages  and  put  on  board 
the  "  Brilliant  "  brigantine  prepared  at  Rochefort  for  their 
transportation. 


246  THE    FIRST    KEPUBLIC. 

Pichegru,  Aubry,  and  Delarue,  though  horror-struck  at 
the  contents  of  the  document,  which  left  no  doubt  as  to  their 
fate  (although  it  was  prepared  and  written  before  the 
event),  resolved  to  say  nothing  to  their  companions.  They 
thought  it  would  be  time  enough  for  them  to  hear  such  ill- 
news  at  Rochefort. 

They  arrived  at  Rochefort  on  the  17th  of  September 
between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  pro- 
cession left  the  pavements  of  the  town  and  turned  to  go 
down  by  the  embankment,  where  an  immense  crowd  of 
inquisitive  people  seemed  to  be  awaiting  it. 

There  was  no  longer  any  doubt,  not  only  for  those  who 
already  knew  the  fatal  truth,  but  for  the  thirteen  others 
who,  as  yet,  knew  nothing.  They  were  evidently  about  to 
be  embarked,  launched  upon  the  ocean,  deprived  of  the 
commonest  necessaries  of  life,  and  subjected  to  the  risks  of 
a  voyage  of  which  they  knew  neither  the  length  nor  the 
destination. 

The  vehicles  stopped.  Some  hundred  soldiers  and  sailors, 
dishonoring  their  uniform,  formed  themselves  into  two 
hedges,  between  which  the  prisoners  passed,  now  almost 
regretting  their  cages.     Ferocious  cries  assailed  them  :  — 

"  Down  with  the  tyrants  !  To  the  water  !  to  the  water 
with  the  traitors  !  " 

One  of  the  men  rushed  forward,  intending,  no  doubt,  to 
put  the  threat  in  execution  ;  others  crowded  behind  him. 
General  Villot  walked  straight  up  to  the  man  and  said, 
crossing  his  arms  :  — 

"  Wretch  !  you  are  too  cowardly  to  do  me  that  service." 

A  boat  approached  ;  a  naval  officer  called  the  roll  and,  one 
by  one,  as  their  names  were  given,  the  prisoners  were  taken 
down  to  the  boat.  The  last  of  them,  Barbe-Marbois,  seemed 
in  such  a  hopeless  condition  that  the  officer  declared  if  he 
were  put  on  board  he  could  not  live  two  days  at  sea. 

"  What 's  that  to  you,  idiot  ?  "  said  Commander  Colin. 
"  You  '11  have  only  to  give  an  account  of  his  carcass." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  condemned  men  were  all 


THE    EMBARKATION.  247 

on  board  a  two-masted  vessel  anchored  near  the  middle  of 
the  Charente  River.  This  was  the  "Brilliant,"  a  little 
vessel  captured  from  the  English.  They  were  received 
by  about  a  dozen  soldiers  who  seemed  to  have  been 
specially  selected  as  their  torturers.  These  men  crowded 
the  prisoners  into  a  space  between  decks  so  narrow  that 
only  half  of  them  could  sit  down,  and  so  low  that  the 
others  were  unable  to  stand  upright.  They  were  obliged  to 
exchange  positions  from  time  to  time,  though  one  position 
was  hardly  more  endurable  than  the  other. 

An  hour  after  their  embarkation  some  one  remem- 
bered that  they  must  want  food.  Two  buckets  were 
lowered  to  them,  —  one  empty,  which  they  were  told  to  put 
in  a  corner,  the  other  full  of  half-boiled  beans  floating  in 
rusty  water,  more  disgusting  than  even  the  bucket  which  held 
them.  A  loaf  of  bread  and  a  ration  of  water,  the  only  food 
the  prisoners  could  swallow,  completed  this  filthy  meal, 
served  to  men  whom  their  fellow-citizens  had  lately  chosen 
as  the  worthiest  in  the  nation  to  represent  them  ! 

The  prisoners  could  not  touch  the  beans  in  the  bucket, 
though  they  had  been  without  food  for  thirty-six  hours  ; 
partly  because  of  the  disgust  they  felt,  and  partly  because 
neither  fork  nor  spoon  was  allowed  them.  The  door  being 
left  open  to  give  their  hole  a  little  air,  they  were  exposed  to 
the  jeers  of  the  soldiers,  which  became  so  coarse  and 
offensive  that  Pichegru,  forgetting  he  was  no  longer  in 
command,  ordered  them  to  be  silent. 

"Hold  your  tongue  yourself,"  said  one  of  them.  "Take 
care  !  you  are  not  out  of  our  hands  yet." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  "  asked  Pichegru,  struck  by  his  youth. 

"  Sixteen,"  said  the  soldier. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Pichegru,  turning  to  his  friends,  "if 
we  ever  return  to  France  there 's  a  boy  we  must  not  forget  ; 
he  's  a  lad  of  promise." 


248  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XXXV. 

FRANCE,    FAKEWELL  ! 

Five  hours  elapsed  before  the  ship  set  sail  ;  at  last,  how- 
ever,  it  did  so,  and  after  an  hour's  sailing  cast  anchor 
again  in  the  open  roadstead.     It  was  then  nearly  midnight. 

A  great  uproar  was  now  heard  on  deck.  Among  the 
many  threats  which  had  greeted  the  prisoners  on  arriving 
at  Rochefort  the  cries,  "  To  the  water  !  "  "  Make  them 
drink  the  big  cup  !  "  had  come  most  distinctly  to  their  ears. 
They  had  not  communicated  to  each  other  their  secret 
thought,  but  one  and  all  expected  to  find  the  end  of  their 
tortures  in  the  bed  of  the  Charente.  No  doubt,  thought 
they,  the  vessel  is  one  of  those  with  a  movable  bottom, 
ingeniously  contrived  by  Xero  for  getting  rid  of  his  mother, 
and  by  Carrier  to  drown  the  royalists. 

The  command  to  lower  two  boats  was  given  ;  an  officer 
in  a  loud  voice  ordered  ever}'  man  to  his  post  ;  then,  after 
a  moment's  silence,  the  names  of  Pichegru  and  Aubry  were 
called.  They  took  leave  of  their  companions  and  went 
on  deck. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  went  by.  Suddenly  the  names  of 
Barthélémy  and  Delarue  were  shouted. 

No  doubt  the  first  two  had  been  put  an  end  to,  and  it  was 
now  the  turn  of  two  others.  They  embraced  their  comrades, 
as  Pichegru  and  Aubry  had  done,  and  went  on  deck  ;  thence 
they  were  taken  to  a  small  boat  and  made  to  sit  side  by  side 
on  a  thwart.  A  sailor  placed  himself  on  another  thwart 
opposite  to  them  ;  a  sail  was  raised,  and  they  started. 

At  every  instant  they  thought  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
Yvrould  open  and  let  them  through.     This  time  their  fears 


FRANCE,   FAREWELL  !  249 

were  groundless  ;  they  were  merely  transferred  from  the 
brigantine  "  Brilliant,"  to  the  corvette  "  La  Vaillante," 
where  their  two  companions  had  preceded  them  and  where 
the  twelve  remaining  prisoners  were  to  follow  them. 

They  were  received  by  Captain  Julien,  on  whose  face 
they  tried  to  read  the  fate  that  awaited  them.  He  affected 
severity  ;  but  when  he  thought  he  was  alone  with  them 
the  captain  said  :  — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  see  you  have  suffered  much.  Have  pa- 
tience ;  while  executing  the  orders  of  the  Directory,  I  shall 
neglect  nothing  which  may  soften  your  lot." 

Unfortunately  for  them,  Colin  had  followed  them.  He 
overheard  the  words.  Within  an  hour  Captain  Julien  was 
superseded  by  Captain  Laporte. 

Strange  circumstance  !  "La  Vaillante,"  a  corvette  of 
twenty-two  guns,  had  recently  been  built  at  Bayonne,  and 
Villot,  who  was  then  commander-in-chief  of  the  whole 
country,  was  chosen  to  christen  her.  He  gave  her  the 
name  of  "  La  Vaillante."  The  prisoners  were  put  as  before 
between  decks,  and  as  no  one  proposed  to  give  them  any- 
thing to  eat,  Dessonville,  the  prisoner  who  suffered  most  for 
want  of  food,  exclaimed  :  — 

"They  certainly  must  mean  to  let  us  die  of  hunger." 

"  No,  no,  gentlemen,"  said  an  oflB.cer  of  the  corvette  whose 
name  was  Des  Poyes,  laughing,  "  don't  be  anxious  ;  you  shall 
have  supper  soon." 

"  Give  us  some  fruit  to  cool  our  mouths,"  said  Barbé- 
Marbois,  who  was  half  dead. 

A  burst  of  laughter  greeted  this  request,  and  two  loaves 
of  bread  were  flung  down  to  them  from  the  deck. 

"Delicious  supper  for  poor  devils  who  hadn't  eaten 
anything  for  forty  hours  !  "  cries  Ramel  ;  "  and  yet  it  was  a 
supper  we  often  regretted,  for  it  was  the  last  time  they 
gave  us  bread." 

Ten  minutes  later  hammocks  were  distributed  to  twelve 
of  the  condemned  men,  but  Pichegru,  Villot,  Eamel,  and 
Dessonville  received  none. 


250  THE   FIRST  REPUBLIC. 

"  And  we,"  asked  Pichegru,  "  where  are  we  to  sleep  ?  " 

"  Come  on  deck,"  replied  the  voice  of  the  new  captain, 
"  and  you  will  be  shown  where." 

Pichegru  and  the  three  others  who  had  received  no 
hammocks  did  as  they  were  ordered. 

''Take  those  gentlemen  down  to  the  Fosse-aux-Lions," 
said  Captain  Laporte  ;  "  that  is  their  berth." 

Every  one  knows  that  the  Fosse-aux-Lions  is  the  black 
hole  in  the  hold  of  a  ship,  where  sailors  condemned  to  death 
are  put  in  irons.  When  the  other  prisoners  heard  this  order, 
they  uttered  cries  of  anger. 

"  No  separation  !  "  they  cried  ;  "  put  us  all  in  that  horrible 
hole,  or  leave  those  gentlemen  with  us." 

Barthélémy  and  his  faithful  Letellier,  that  brave  servant 
who  would  not  leave  his  master,  no  matter  what  was  said 
to  him,  Barthélémy  and  Letellier  sprang  on  deck,  and 
seeing  their  four  companions  being  dragged  by  soldiers 
toward  the  hatchway  which  led  to  the  Fosse-aux-Lions,  let 
themselves  slide  down  the  ladder  instead  of  stepping  down 
it,  and  were  in  the  hold  as  soon  as  they. 

"  Come  back  !  "  cried  the  captain  from  the  open  hatch, 
"  or  I  will  force  you  back  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet." 

But  they  lay  down. 

"  There  is  neither  first  nor  last  among  us,"  they  said  ; 
"  either  we  are  all  guilty  or  we  are  all  innocent.  Therefore 
we  must  all  be  treated  alike." 

The  soldiers  advanced  upon  them,  bayonets  lowered  ; 
but  they  would  not  stir  ;  it  needed  the  prayers  and  the  en- 
treaties of  Pichegru  and  his  three  friends  to  make  them 
return  on  deck. 

Pichegru,  Eamel,  Villot,  and  Dessonville  remained  all 
four  in  total  darkness  in  that  horrible  fetid  hole,  poisoned 
by  the  exhalations  of  the  bilge  and  the  odor  of  the  cables, 
without  hammock  or  covering,  unable  to  lie  down  for  there 
was  no  room  ;  unable  to  stand  upright  for  the  ceiling  of 
their  dungeon  was  too  low. 

The  twelve  others,  crowded  in  a  narrow  space  between 


FRANCE,   FAREWELL  !  251 

decks  were  scarcely  better  off,  for  the  hatches  were 
shut  down  upon  them  and,  like  their  comrades  in  the 
Fosse-aux-Lions,  they  were  deprived  of  air  and  the  power 
of  motion. 

Toward  four  in  the  morning  the  captain  gave  orders  to 
weigh  anchor  ;  and  amid  the  cries  of  the  crew,  the  creaking 
of  the  ropes,  the  swash  of  the  waves  as  they  broke  against 
the  bows  of  the  corvette,  there  was  heard,  like  a  sob 
issuing  from  the  sides  of  the  vessel,  the  heart-breaking 
cry:  — 

"  Farewell,  France  !  " 

And,  like  an  echo  from  the  entrails  of  the  ship,  the  same 
cry  came  from  the  hold,  but  muffled  in  its  depths  :  — 

"  France,  farewell  !  " 

Perhaps  our  readers  are  surprised  that  we  have  dwelt 
so  long  upon  this  dolorous  tale,  which  would  be  still  more 
dolorous  if  we  followed  these  unhappy  men  upon  their 
voyage,  which  lasted  forty-five  days.  But  our  readers 
would  probably  not  have  our  courage,  a  courage  inspired 
in  us  by  the  longing  we  feel,  not  to  rehabilitate,  —  we  leave 
to  history  the  duty  of  rehabilitation,  —  but  to  win  the  pity 
of  the  generations  to  come  for  these  men  who  sacrificed 
themselves  for  France. 

It  seems  to  us  that  the  pagan  saying  of  antiquity, 
"  Misery  to  the  vanquished,"  was  a  cruelty  in  all  ages,  and 
an  impiety  in  modern  times.  I  know  not  how  it  is  that 
my  heart  is  always  drawn  to  the  vanquished  ;  it  is  always 
to  them  that  I  long  to  go.  Those  who  have  read  my  books 
know  with  what  sympathy  and  impartiality  I  have  related 
the  passion  of  Joan  of  Arc  at  Rouen  and  the  legend  of 
Marie  Stuart  at  Fotheringay  ;  they  know  how  I  have 
followed  Charles  I.  to  Whitehall  and  Marie- Antoinette  to 
the  place  de  la  Révolution. 

But  what  I  have  remarked  with  regret  in  historians  is 
that  they  dwell  so  much,  like  M.  de  Chateaubriand,  on  the 
tears  contained  in  the  eyes  of  kings,   and   do    not  study 


252  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

as  religiously  the  mass  of  sufferings  this  poor  human 
machine  can  endure  without  dying,  if  sustained  by  the 
conviction  of  innocence  and  uprightness,  when  this  machine 
belongs  to  the  middle  and  lower  classes  of  society. 

Such  were  these  men,  whose  anguish  we  have  just 
attempted  to  describe,  —  men  for  whom  we  do  not  find  one 
pitying  regret  among  liistorians,  and  who,  by  the  adroit 
commingling  of  their  names  (through  the  malice  of  their 
persecutors)  with  those  of  men  like  Collot-d'Herbois  and 
Billaud-Varennes,  have  been  robbed  of  the  sympathy  of 
their  contemporaries  and  disinherited  of  the  compassion 
of  the   future. 


saint-jean-d'acre.  253 


THE    EIGHTH    CRUSADE. 
I. 

saint-jean-d'acre. 

Dear  readers,  in  announcing  to  you  the  historical  impor- 
tance of  our  novel,  which  we  have  called  "  The  Whites  and 
the  Blues,"  that  is,  that  it  would  form  part  of  an  historical 
series,  we  also  said  that  it  was  a  continuation  of  "  The 
Company  of  Jehu." 

But,  as  it  is  part  of  our  plan  to  picture  the  great  events 
at  the  close  of  the  last  and  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century,  from  1793  to  1815,  —  in  other  words,  to  bring  before 
your  eyes  twenty-two  years  of  our  history,  —  we  have  filled 
nearly  three  volumes  in  describing  the  great  days  of  our 
Kevolution,  and  we  have,  as  yet,  got  only  as  far  as  1799, 
where  our  account  of  the  Company  of  Jehu  begins. 

As  some  of  the  actors  who  play  a  part  in  that  book  have 
also  a  part  to  play  in  <'  The  Whites  and  the  Blues,"  you 
must  not  be  surprised  if  on  five  or  six  points  in  the  present 
episode  the  action  of  the  two  histories  join,  and  if  some 
of  the  chapters  of  our  first  book  reappear  in  the  second, 
inasmuch  as  events  not  only  run  side  by  side,  but  are  often 
really  identical. 

After  the  execution  of  Morgan  and  his  companions  is 
over,  our  history  will  really  be  a  continuation  of  "  The 
Company  of  Jehu,"  for  the  third  and  last  surviving 
brother  of  the  family  of  Sainte-Hermine  is  the  hero  and 
leading  personage  in  the  volumes  which  we  shall  next 
publish  under  the  title  of  "  The  Empire." 


254  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

We  give  you  this  explanation,  dear  readers,  in  order  that 
you  may  not  be  surprised  at  the  overlapping  in  some  places 
of  the  two  works  now  published  ;  and  if  we  may  venture 
to  expect  so  much  of  your  kindliness,  we  would  ask  you  to 
read  over  again  "  The  Company  of  Jehu  "  in  connection 
with  the  present  episode,  which  we  have  called  "  The 
Eighth  Crusade." 

Need  I  tell  you,  my  dear  readers,  that  this  new  work,  the 
most  historical  that  I  have  yet  written,  has  been  conceived, 
composed,  and  executed  with  the  grand  purpose  of  making 
you  read  ten  volumes  of  history  under  the  supposition  that 
they  are  ten  volumes  of  romance  ?  The  events  recorded  in 
"  The  Whites  and  the  Blues  "  are  the  most  important  of  our 
present  era  ;  and  it  is  essential  that  the  French  people,  who 
had  already  played  for  seventy  years  so  grand  a  part  in  the 
events  of  Europe,  and  who  are  now  to  be  called  upon  to 
play  one  grander  still,  should  know,  as  they  ought  to  be 
known,  the  facts  of  our  annals. 

When  restorations  follow  revolutions,  and  revolutions 
follow  restorations,  and  each  party  raises  in  the  hour  of  its 
triumph  a  statue  to  its  greatest  man  —  a  statue  destined 
to  be  overthrown  by  the  opposite  party  when  victorious,  to 
make  room  for  another  —  feeble  minds  and  short-sighted 
eyes  are  bewildered  among  all  these  great  men  suddenly 
made  traitors,  their  contemporaries  seeming  to  be  as  ready 
to  dishonor  them  as  they  were  to  glorify  them.  It  is  there- 
fore well  that  a  firm  voice  and  a  more  impartial  spirit 
should  arise  and  say  :  "  This  is  plaster,  that  is  marble  ; 
here  is  lead,  there  is  gold." 

There  are  some  statues  Hung  from  their  pedestals  which 
ascend  to  them  again  without  assistance.  Others  there  are 
which  fall  of  themselves,  and  are  broken  in  falling.  Mira- 
beau, borne  in  pomp  to  the  Pantheon,  has  not  even  a  grave 
to-day.  Louis  XVI.,  whose  body  was  thrown  into  the  com- 
mon trench,  now  lies  in  his  memorial  chapel.  Perhaps 
posterity  has  been  too  severe  on  Mirabeau.  Perhaps  pos- 
terity has  been  too  lenient  to  Louis  XVI.  But  we  must 
bow  before  the  severities  and  the  leniencies  of  posterity. 


saint-jean-d'acre.  255 

And  yet,  without  regretting  the  memorial  chapel  of 
Louis  XVI.,  we  would  fain  see  a  tomb  over  Mirabeau. 
The  guiltier  of  the  two,  to  our  mind,  was  not  he  who  sold, 
but  he  who  bought. 

On  the  7th  of  April,  1799,  the  promontory  on  which  is 
built  the  town  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre,  the  ancient  Ptolemais, 
seemed  to  be  as  much  enveloped  by  thunder  and  lightning 
as  was  Mount  Sinai  on  the  day  when  from  the  burning  bush 
the  Lord  God  gave  the  law  to  Moses. 

Whence  came  that  thunder  which  shook  the  coasts  of 
Syria  like  an  earthquake  ?  Whence  that  smoke  which 
covered  the  Gulf  of  Carmel  with  a  cloud  as  thick  as  though 
the  mountain  of  Elias  had  changed  into  a  volcano  ? 

The  dream  of  a  Man,  one  of  those  men  who  with  a  word 
change  the  destinies  of  nations,  was  being  accomplished; 
no,  no,  we  are  mistaken,  —  we  meant  to  say,  was  vanishing. 
Possibly,  however,  it  was  only  vanishing  to  give  place  to  a 
reality  which  that  Man,  ambitious  as  he  was,  would  hardly 
dare  to  dream. 

On  the  10th  of  September,  1797,  learning,  at  Passeriano, 
of  the  events  of  the  18th  Fructidor,  and  the  promulgation 
of  the  edict  which  condemned  to  transportation  two  direc- 
tors, fifty-four  deputies,  and  a  hundred  and  forty-eight 
individuals,  the  conqueror  of  Italy  fell  into  a  sombre 
reverie.  ISTo  doubt  he  was  measuring,  in  imagination,  the 
influence  on  his  future  of  this  great  coup  cV État  in  which 
his  hand  had  done  all,  though  that  of  Augereau  alone  was 
visible. 

He  was  walking  with  his  secretary  Bourrienne  in  the 
beautiful  park  of  the  palace.  Suddenly  he  raised  his  head 
and  said,  without  any  word  having  preceded  this  sort  of 
apostrophe  :  — 

''Europe  is  a  mole-hill;  there  has  never  been  a  great 
empire  and  a  great  revolution  except  at  the  East,  where  six 
hundred  millions  of  men  exist." 

Then,  as  Bourrienne,  who  was  not  prepared  for  this  out- 


256  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

burst,  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  he  fell  back,  or  appeared 
to  fall  back  into  meditation. 

On  the  1st  of  January,  1798,  Bonaparte,  after  being 
recognized  in  his  box  at  a  theatre  in  Paris,  during  the  first 
representation  of  "  Horatius  Codes,"  saluted  by  an  ovation, 
and  by  cries  of  "  Vive  Bonaparte  !  "  returned  to  his  house 
in  the  rue  Chantereine  (recently  named  in  his  honor  rue  de 
la  Victoire)  in  a  state  of  the  deepest  melancholy,  and  pres- 
ently said  to  Bourrienne,  who  was  the  confidant  of  his 
blackest  thoughts  ;  — 

"  I  tell  you,  Bourrienne,  Paris  remembers  nothing.  If  I 
remain  six  months  without  doing  anything,  I  am  lost  ;  one 
renown  in  this  Babylon  of  ours  treads  on  the  heels  of  an- 
other ;  the  third  time  I  am  seen  at  a  theatre  they  won't 
even  look  at  me." 

Again,  on  the  29tli  of  the  same  month,  reverting  ever  to 
his  dreamed  idea,  he  said  to  Bourrienne  :  — 

"  Bourrienne,  I  can't  stay  here.  There  's  nothing  to  do. 
If  I  stay  I  'm  done  for  ;  everything  gets  worn  out  in  Paris, 
My  fame  is  already  dried  up.  That  poor  little  Europe 
has  n't  enough  of  it  to  supply  me.  I  must  go  to  the 
East." 

Finally,  just  two  weeks  before  his  departure,  April  18th, 
1798,  as  he  was  walking  down  the  rue  Sainte-Anne,  side 
by  side  with  Bourrienne,  to  whom  he  had  not  said  a  word 
since  leaving  the  rue  Chantereine,  the  secretary  said,  in 
order  to  break  the  silence  which  embarrassed  him  :  — 

"  Have  3'ou  really  decided  to  leave  Prance,  general  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Bonaparte.  "  I  have  asked  to  be  one 
of  them,  and  they  have  refused  me.  If  I  stay  here  I  must 
overthrow  them  and  make  myself  king.  The  nobles  will 
never  consent  to  that  ;  I  have  sounded  them.  The  time 
has  not  yet  come  ;  I  should  be  alone  ;  I  must  first  dazzle 
those  people.     We  are  going  to  Egypt,  Bourrienne." 

So,  then,  it  was  not  to  clasp  hands  across  Asia  with 
Tippoo-Saib  and  strike  England  in  her  Indian  empire,  that 
Bonaparte  wanted   to   leave    Europe  ;    it   was    to    dazzle 


saint-jean-d'acre.  257 

THOSE  PEOPLE.     That  was  the  true  cause  of  the  Expedition 
to  Egypt. 

On  the  3d  of  May,  1798,  he  gave  orders  to  all  his  gen- 
erals to  embark  their  troops. 

The  4th  he  left  Paris. 

The  8th  he  reached  Toulon. 

The  19th  he  embarked  on  the  admiral's  vessel,  "  l'Orient.'* 

The  25th  he  passed  in  sight  of  Livorno  and  the  island 
of  Elba. 

June  13th  he  took  Malta. 

The  19th  he  resumed  the  expedition. 

July  1st  he  disembarked  near  Marabout. 

The  3d  he  took  Alexandria  by  assault. 

The  13th  he  won  the  battle  of  Chebreiss. 

The  21st  he  crushed  the  Mameluks  at  the  Pyramids. 

The  25th  he  entered  Cairo. 

August  14th  he  heard  of  the  disaster  of  Aboukir. 

December  24th  he  started  with  the  Institute  to  visit 
the  remains  of  the  Suez  canal. 

The  28th  he  drank  of  the  wells  of  Moses  and,  like 
Pharoah,  came  near  being  drowned  in  the  Red  Sea. 

January  1st,  1799,  he  planned  the  campaign  in  Syria. 

Six  months  earlier  the  idea  of  that  campaign  had  come 
to  him.     It  was  then  that  he  wrote  to  Kleber  :  — 

"  If  the  English  continue  to  infest  the  Mediterranean,  they  will 
oblige  us  to  do  greater  things  than  we  want  to  do." 

A  vague  rumor  had  arisen  of  an  expedition  undertaken 
against  us  by  the  Sultan  of  Damascus,  in  which  the  pacha 
Achmet,  surnamed  Djezzar,  the  Butcher,  on  account  of 
his  cruelties,  would  lead  the  advance. 

This  news  seemed  to  gather  consistency;  Djezzar  had 
certainly  advanced  by  Gaza  as  far  as  El  Arish,  and  had 
massacred  the  few  soldiers  we  had  in  that  fortress. 

Among  his  numerous  artillery  officers,  Bonaparte  had 
the  two  brothers  Mailly  de  Château-Renaud.     He  sent  the 

VOL.    II.  — 17 


258  THE   FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

younger  with  a  jBag  of  truce  to  Djezzar,  who,  defying  the 
rules  of  war,  made  him  prisoner. 

This  was  a  declaration  of  hostilities.  Bonaparte,  with 
his  usual  rapidity  of  execution,  resolved  to  destroy  the 
enemy's  advance-guard  at  Port  Ottoman.  In  case  of  suc- 
cess, he  himself  would  reveal  what  his  hopes  were  later. 
In  case  of  failure,  he  would  batter  down  the  walls  of  Gaza, 
Jaffa,  and  Acre,  ravage  the  country,  destroy  its  resources, 
and  make  it  impossible  that  any,  even  a  native  army, 
should  cross  the  desert. 

On  the  11th  of  Februar}^,  1799,  Bonaparte  entered  Syria 
at  the  head  of  twelve  thousand  men.  He  took  with  him 
that  galaxy  of  brave  men  who  revolved  about  his  star 
during  the  first  and  most  brilliant  period  of  his  life. 

He  had  Kleber,  the  handsomest  and  bravest  cavalry 
officer  of  the  army. 

He  had  Murat,  who  disputed  that  claim  with  Kleber. 

He  had  Junot,  the  famous  pistol-shot,  who  could  cut 
twelve  balls  in  succession  on  the  blade  of  a  knife. 

He  had  Lannes,  who  had  already  won  his  title  of  Due 
de  Montebello,  which  was  given  to  him  later. 

He  had  Reynier,  for  whom  the  honor  was  reserved  to 
decide  the  victory  at  Heliopolis. 

He  had  Caffarelli,  who  was  destined  to  stay  in  the 
trenches  he  dug. 

He  had  also,  in  secondary  positions  ;  — 

Eugène  de  Beauharnais,  our  young  friend  of  Stras- 
bourg, who  had  made  the  marriage  of  his  mother 
Joséphine  with  Bonaparte  by  appealing  to  the  latter  for 
his  father's  sword. 

He  had  Croisier,  sad  and  silent  ever  since  he  had  weak- 
ened in  an  encounter  with  the  Arabs,  and  the  word 
"  Coward  !  "  had  fallen  from  the  lips  of  Bonaparte. 

He  had  the  elder  Mailly,  who  was  now  to  deliver  or 
avenge  his  brother. 

He  had  the  young  sheik  of  Ahar,  the  head  of  the  Druses, 
whose  name,  if  not  his  power,  extended  from  the  Dead 
Sea  to  the  Mediterranean. 


saint-jean-d'acre.  259 

He  had,  moreover,  an  old  acquaintance  of  ours,  Koland 
de  Montrevel,  whose  habitual  and  foolhardy  courage  we 
have  witnessed  throughout  the  whole  course  of  our  history 
of  "  The  Company  of  Jehu." 

On  the  17th  of  February  the  army  arrived  before  È1 
Arish.  The  soldiers  had  suffered  greatly  on  the  way  from 
thirst.  Fortunately,  they  found  relief  at  the  end  of  the 
first  day's  march,  —  relief  combined  with  amusement.  It 
happened  at  Messoudiah  (the  word  meaning  "  lucky  spot  ") 
by  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  on  a  barren  dune  of 
the  finest  sand.  Chance  led  a  soldier  to  imitate  the  mira- 
cle of  Moses.  He  thrust  a  stick  into  the  sand,  and  the  water 
bubbled  up  as  if  from  an  artesian  well  ;  the  soldier  tasted 
the  water  and  found  it  excellent  ;  then  he  called  his  com- 
rades and  told  them  of  his  discovery.  Of  course,  they  all 
made  wells,  and  drank  their  own  water  ;  this  alone  was 
enough  to  make  the  army  gay. 

El  Arish  surrendered  at  the  first  summons. 

At  last,  on  the  28th  of  February,  the  green  and  fertile 
fields  of  Syria  began  to  show  themselves  ;  at  the  same 
time,  through  the  veil  of  a  light  rain  (a  most  unusual 
thing  in  those  regions),  a  landscape  of  mountains  and 
valleys  could  be  seen  which  reminded  the  soldiers  of  the 
mountains  and  vales  of  Europe. 

March  1st  they  camped  at  Ramleh,  the  ancient  Rama, 
where  Rachel  fell  into  that  great  despair  of  which  the 
Bible  gives  an  idea  in  this  splendid  passage  of  poesy; 
"  In  Rama  was  there  a  voice  heard,  lamentation  and  great 
mourning  ;  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  and  would  not 
be  comforted  because  they  were  not  !  " 

Through  Rama  Jesus  passed  with  the  Virgin  Mary  and 
Saint  Joseph  on  their  way  to  Egypt.  The  church,  which  the 
monks  permitted  Bonaparte  to  use  as  a  hospital,  is  built 
on  the  very  spot  where  the  holy  family  rested.  The  well, 
with  its  pure,  cool  water  which  now  refreshed  an  army, 
was  the  same  which  seventeen  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
years  earlier  had  slaked  the  thirst  of  the  fugitive  Sacred 


260  THE   FIRST   KEPUBLIC. 

Ones.  It  was  at  Kama,  too,  that  the  disciple  Joseph  was 
born,  the  same  whose  reverent  hand  buried  the  body  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Perhaps  in  this  vast  crowd  not  a  single  man  remem- 
bered that  sacred  tradition.  But  what  they  did  know  was 
that  they  were  only  about  eighteen  miles  from  Jerusalem. 
Walking  beneath  the  most  beautiful  olive-trees  to  be  found 
in  the  East,  —  which  our  soldiers  chopped  down  remorse- 
lessly to  build  their  camp  fires,  —  Bourrienne  said  to 
Bonaparte  : — 

"  General,  are  not  you  going  to  Jerusalem  ?  " 

"  Oh  !    as   for  that,    no,"    replied   Bonaparte,  carelessly 
"  Jerusalem  is  not  in  my  line  of  operations.     I  don't  want 
to  encounter  mountaineers  on  these  difficult  roads  ;   besides, 
on  the  other  side  of  those  mountains  they  have  large  bodies 
of  cavalry.     I  am  not  ambitious  of  the  fate  of  Crassus." 

Crassus,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  massacred  by  the 
Parthians. 

Here  are  two  strange  facts  in  the  life  of  Bonaparte  : 
being  once  within  six  leagues  of  Jerusalem,  the  cradle  of 
Christ,  and  once  within  six  leagues  of  Rome,  Caesar's  city 
and  the  capital  of  the  Papacy,  he  had  no  desire  to  see 
either  of  them. 


THE    PRISONEKS.  261 


II. 


THE   PRISONERS. 

Two  days  earlier,  about  a  mile  from  Gaza  (the  name 
meaning  in  Arabic  treasure,  in  Hebrew  strong),  the  place 
whose  gates  were  carried  off  by  Samson,  who  died,  with 
three  thousand  Philistines,  under  the  ruins  of  the  temple 
he  overthrew,  the  army  encountered  Abdallah,  pacha  of 
Damascus. 

As  the  enemy's  force  was  cavalry,  it  was  Murat's  affair. 
jVIurat  took  a  hundred  troopers  from  the  thousand  he  com- 
manded, and,  whip  in  hand  (in  presence  of  the  Moslem, 
Arabian,  and  Maugrabin  cavalry  he  seldom  deigned  to  draw 
his  sabre),  charged  vigorously.  Abdallah  turned  round  and 
fled  through  the  town  ;  the  French  army  entered  the  town 
after  him  and  camped  beyond  it. 

It  was  the  day  after  this  skirmish  that  the  army  reached 
Ramleh.  From  Ramleh  they  marched  to  Jaffa.  To  the 
great  satisfaction  of  the  soldiers,  the  clouds  began  to  gather 
over  their  heads  and  gave  them  water.  They  sent  a  depu- 
tation to  Bonaparte  asking  permission  to  take  a  bath.  The 
general  gave  it,  and  commanded  a  halt.  Then  every  soldier 
stripped  off  his  clothes  and  received  the  storm  upon  his 
bod}^  with  actual  delight. 

After  that  the  army  took  up  its  march,  refreshed  and 
joyful,  singing  with  one  voice  the  Marseillaise. 

The  Mameluks  and  Abdallah's  cavalry  dared  not  resist 
in  the  open  country,  any  more  than  they  had  at  Gaza.  They 
returned  to  Jaffa,  faithful  to  the  belief  that  "  every  Mussul- 
man behind  a  rampart  is  invincible." 


262  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

It  was  indeed  a  motley  crowd  which  made  the  garrison 
of  Jaffa,  who  now,  intoxicated  with  fanaticism,  were  about 
to  oppose  the  first  soldiers  of  the  world.  The  East  itself 
was  congregated  there,  from  the  extremities  of  Africa  to 
the  farthest  points  of  Asia.  Maugrabins  were  there,  with 
their  black  and  white  mantles  ;  Albanians,  with  their 
long  firearms  mounted  in  silver  and  inlaid  with  coral  ; 
Kurds,  with  their  lances  adorned  with  tufts  of  ostrich 
feathers  ;  Aleppians,  who  all  bore  the  mark  on  one  cheek 
or  the  other  of  the  famous  bouton  of  Aleppo  ;  Damascans, 
with  curved  scimitars  of  steel  so  finely  tempered  that  their 
cut  could  go  through  a  silk  handkerchief  when  floating  in 
the  wind.  Besides  these,  there  were  Natolians,  Karamans, 
and  negroes. 

The  French  army  was  under  the  walls  of  Jaffa  on  the 
3d  of  March.  On  the  4th  the  town  was  invested.  The 
same  day  Murat  made  a  reconuoissance  round  the  ramparts 
to  discover  on  which  side  it  was  best  to  attack. 

On  the  7th  everything  was  in  readiness  to  storm  the 
town.  Bonaparte  wished,  before  the  firing  began,  to  attempt 
conciliation.  He  well  knew  what  a  struggle  with  such  a 
population  would  be  like,  even  if  it  were  successful.  He 
therefore  dictated  the  following  summons  :  — 

God  is  merciful  I 

The  commander-in-chief,  General  Bonaparte,  whom  the  Arabs 
have  named  the  Sultan  of  Fire,  directs  me  to  inform  you  that  the 
pacha  Djezzar  began  hostihties  in  Egypt  by  seizing  the  fortress 
of  El  Arish  ;  that  God,  who  judges  the  right,  gave  victory  to  the 
French  array,  which  retook  El  Arish  ;  that  General  Bonaparte  has 
entered  Palestine,  from  which  lie  intends  to  drive  the  troops  of  pasha 
Djezzar,  who  have  no  right  to  be  there  ;  that  the  town  of  eTaffa  is 
invested  on  all  sides;  that  the  batteries  will  open  fire  horizontally 
with  shot  and  shell  in  two  hours,  and  batter  down  the  walls  and 
destroy  the  defences;  that  his  heart  is  moved  by  the  horrors  the 
whole  town  will  endure  if  taken  by  assault  ;  that  he  offers  a  safe- 
conduct  to  the  garrison,  and  protection  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
town,  and  therefore  will  delay  to  open  fire  until  seven  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning. 


THE   PRISONERS.  263 

This  summons  was  addressed  to  Abou-Saib,  governor  of 
Jaffa. 

Eoland  de  Montrevel  stretched  out  his  hand  for  it. 

"  What  for  ?  "  asked  Bonaparte. 

"  Don't  you  want  a  messenger  ?  "  said  the  young  man, 
laughing.     "As  well  me  as  another." 

"No,"  said  Bonaparte;  "on  the  contrary,  better  any  one 
than  you,  and  preferably  a  Mussulman  to  a  Christian." 

"  Why  so,  general  ?  " 

"  Because  Abou-Saib  maj/  cut  off  the  head  of  a  Mussul- 
man, but  he  would  certainly  cut  off  that  of  a  Christian." 

"  But,  general  —  " 

"  Enough  !  "  said  Bonaparte  ;  "  I  don't  choose  it." 

Roland  retired  into  a  corner  like  a  sulky  child. 

Then  Bonaparte  called  up  his  dragoman. 

"  Inquire,"  he  said,  "  if  there  is  a  Turk  or  an  Arab,  or 
any  kind  of  Mussulman  who  would  be  willing  to  carry  this 
despatch." 

The  dragoman  repeated  the  general's  inquiry  in  a  loud 
Toice.    A  Mameluk  of  the  corps  of  dromedaries  advanced. 

"  I  will,"  he  said. 

The  dragoman  looked  at  Bonaparte. 

"  Tell  him  what  he  risks,"  said  the  general. 

"  The  Sultan  of  Fire  wishes  you  to  know  that  in  carrying 
that  message  you  risk  your  life." 

"  What  is  written  is  written,"  replied  the  man,  and  he 
held  out  his  hand. 

They  gave  him  a  trumpeter  and  a  white  flag.  The  two 
men  approached  the  town  on  horseback  ;  the  gate  opened 
to  receive  them. 

Ten  minutes  later  a  movement  was  seen  on  the  rampart 
opposite  to  the  headquarters  of  the  commander-in-chief. 
The  trumpeter  appeared,  dragged  forward  between  two 
Albanians,  who  obliged  him  to  sound  his  trumpet  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  French  army.  He  sounded 
the  reveille. 

At  the  same  instant,  while  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  that 


264  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

point  of  the  walls,  a  man  approached  holding  in  his  right 
hand  a  decapitated  head  in  a  turban.  The  bearer  extended 
his  arm  beyond  the  rampart,  the  turban  was  unrolled,  and 
the  head  fell  to  the  foot  of  the  wall.  It  was  that  of  the 
Mussulman  who  had  borne  the  summons. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  trumpeter  issued  from  the  gate  by 
which  he  had  entered,  but  he  was  now  alone. 

The  next  day,  at  seven  in  the  morning,  as  Bonaparte  had 
said,  six  twelve-pounders  began  to  destroy  a  tower.  By 
four  o'clock  the  breach  was  practicable,  and  Bonaparte 
ordered  the  assault.  He  looked  about  him  for  Roland  to 
give  him  the  command  of  one  of  the  assaulting  regiments, 
but  Roland  was  not  there. 

The  carbineers  of  the  17th  light  brigade,  the  chasseurs 
of  the  same  brigade,  supported  by  the  sappers  of  the 
engineer  corps,  rushed  to  the  assault.  General  Rambeau, 
Adjutant-General  Netherwood,  and  the  staff  officer  Vernois, 
led  them. 

They  all  mounted  the  breach  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  volleys 
of  musketry  which  met  them  at  short  range,  in  spite,  too, 
of  the  shells  from  certain  guns  they  had  not  been  able  to 
silence  and  which  took  them  in  flank,  a  terrible  fight 
ensued  among  the  ruins  of  the  fallen  tower.  The  struggle 
lasted  fifteen  minutes  before  the  besiegers  could  cross 
the  breach,  or  the  besieged  drive  them  back  from  their 
foothold. 

The  whole  effort  of  the  belligerents  seemed  to  be  concen- 
trated there,  and  was  so  in  point  of  fact,  until  suddenly,  on 
the  deserted  walls,  Roland  appeared  holding  a  Turkish 
flag,  followed  by  fifty  men,  and  shouting,  as  he  waved  his 
banner  :  — 

"  The  town  is  taken  !  " 

This  is  what  had  happened  :  — 

That  morning,  about  six  o'clock,  which  is  the  hour  the 
sun  appears  at  that  season  in  the  East,  Roland,  going  down 
to  the  sea  to  take  his  bath,  had  discovered  a  sort  of  breach 
in  an  obscure  angle  of  the  wall  ;   he  made  sure  that  this 


THE    PRISONERS.  265 

breach  would  give  entrance  to  the  town,  took  his  bath,  and 
got  back  to  camp  before  the  fighting  began.  There,  as  he 
was  known  to  be  one  of  Bonaparte's  privileged  friends,  and 
at  the  same  time  one  of  the  bravest  men,  or  rather,  we 
should  say,  the  most  foolhardy,  cries  of  "  Captain  Roland  ! 
Captain  Roland  !  "  greeted  him. 

He  knew  very  well  what  that  meant.  It  meant  : 
*'  Have  n't  you  something  impossible  to  do  ?  If  so,  here 
we  are  !  " 

"  Fifty  volunteers  !  "  he  said. 

A  hundred  presented  themselves. 

"  Fifty  !"  he  repeated. 

He  picked  out  fifty,  taking  every  other  man  so  as  to  hurt 
no  one's  feelings.  Then  he  took  two  drummers  and  two 
trumpeters,  and  followed  by  all  the  selected  ones,  he  passed 
through  the  hole  he  had  discovered  into  the  interior  of  the 
town. 

There  they  met  a  body  of  a  hundred  men  with  a  flag  ; 
they  fell  upon  them  and  larded  them  with  their  bayonets. 
Roland  took  possession  of  the  flag,  and  it  was  that  he  waved 
from  the  ramparts.  The  acclamations  of  the  army  saluted 
him.  But  Roland  saw  the  time  had  come  to  make  use  of 
his  drums  and  trumpets. 

The  whole  garrison  was  defending  the  breach,  not  dream- 
ing of  attack  elsewhere,  when  suddenly  it  heard  drums  upon 
its  flanks  and  trumpets  behind  it.  At  the  same  moment 
two  volleys  resounded,  and  a  hail  of  balls  fell  among  the 
besieged  from  their  rear.  They  turned,  saw  the  sun  shining 
on  the  barrels  of  muskets,  and  tricolor  feathers  floating  in 
the  air.  The  smoke  of  the  firing,  driven  in  by  the  sea- 
breeze,  concealed  the  smallness  of  the  attacking  party  ;  the 
Mussulmans  thought  themselves  betrayed,  and  a  fearful 
panic  took  possession  of  them.  They  abandoned  the  breach. 
But  Roland  had  sent  ten  of  his  men  to  open  one  of  the 
gates  ;  General  Lannes's  division  poured  in  through  that 
opening  ;  the  besieged  met  bayonets  on  the  road  they  had 
felt  so  sure  was  clear  for  flight  ;  and,  by  a  reaction  natural 


266  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

to  ferocious  nations,  who,  giving  no  quarter,  expect  none, 
seized  their  weapons  with  fresh  energy,  and  the  fight  became 
a  massacre. 

Bonaparte,  ignorant  of  what  was  passing  in  the  town, 
seeing  the  smoke  rising  above  the  walls,  hearing  the  con- 
tinuous sound  of  musketry,  and  finding  that  no  one  returned, 
not  even  the  wounded,  sent  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  and 
Croisier  to  see  what  was  happening,  telling  them  to  bring 
him  a  report  as  soon  as  possible.  Each  wore  the  scarf  of 
an  aide-de-camp  on  his  arm,  the  badge  of  their  rank;  they 
had  waited  impatiently  for  an  order  to  take  part  m  the 
fight,  and  they  now  entered  the  town  at  a  full  run,  and 
penetrated  to  the  very  heart  of  the  struggle. 

They  were  recognized  at  once  as  messengers  from  the 
commander-in-chief;  it  was  thought  that  they  came  on  a 
mission  ;  the  firing  ceased  for  an  instant.  A  few  Albanians 
spoke  French,  and  they  called  out  :  — 

"If  our  lives  are  given  to  us  we  surrender;  if  not,  we 
will  fight  to  the  last  man." 

The  two  aides-de-camp  could  know  nothing  of  Bona- 
parte's secret  mind.  They  were  young  men  ;  humanity 
was  in  their  hearts.  Without  being  authorized,  they  prom- 
ised life  to  the  poor  wretches.  The  firing  ceased,  and  they 
returned  to  camp  with  their  prisoners,  —  four  thousand 
in  all. 

As  for  the  soldiers,  they  knew  their  rights.  The  town 
had  been  taken  by  assault  ;  after  massacre  came  pillage. 


CAKNAGE.  267 


III. 

CARNAGE. 

Bonaparte  was  walking  up  and  down  before  his  tent  with 

Bourrienne,  impatiently  awaiting  news,  and  having  none  of 
his  familiar  officers  about  him,  when  he  saw,  issuing  from 
two  gates  of  the  town,  troops  of  disarmed  men. 

One  of  these  troops  was  led  by  Croisier,  the  other  by 
Eugène  Beauharnais.  Their  young  faces  beamed  with  joy. 
Croisier,  who  had  not  smiled  since  he  had  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  displease  his  general,  now  smiled  indeed,  believ- 
ing that  this  fine  capture  would  be  the  means  of  his 
reconciliation, 

Bonaparte  understood  the  matter  at  a  glance  ;  he  turned 
very  pale,  and  said  in  a  tone  of  pain  :  — 

^'  What  do  they  expect  me  to  do  with  those  men  ?  Have 
I  provisions  for  them  ?  Have  I  vessels  to  send  the  poor 
wretches  to  France  or  Egypt  ?  " 

The  two  young  men  were  now  close  by  him.  They  saw, 
by  the  rigidity  of  his  features,  that  they  had  made  a 
blunder. 

"  What  have  you  brought  me  there  ?  "  demanded  Bona- 
parte. 

Croisier  dared  not  answer,  but  Eugène  spoke  out  :  — 

"  You  see  yourself,  general,  they  are  prisoners." 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  to  do  ?  " 

'*  You  told  us  to  stop  the  carnage,"  said  Eugène,  timidly. 

"  Yes,  of  course,  the  killing  of  women  and  children  and 
old  men,"  said  the  general,  "  but  not  the  killing  of  armed 
soldiers.  Do  you  know  that  you  compel  me  to  commit  a 
crime  ?  " 


268  THE   FIRST   BEPUBLIC. 

The  two  young  men  comprehended  the  situation  too  late. 
They  retired.  Croisier  wept.  Eugène  tried  to  console  him, 
but  he  shook  his  head,  saying  :  — 

"  It  is  all  over  with  me  ;  I  will  get  myself  killed  on  the 
first  occasion." 

Before  deciding  on  the  fate  of  these  unhappy  men,  Bona- 
parte was  anxious  to  call  a  council  of  generals.  But  gen- 
erals and  men  were  bivouacking  within  the  town.  The 
soldiers  had  only  paused  when  they  were  weary  of  killing. 
In  addition  to  these  four  thousand  men  made  prisoners,  five 
thousand  others  were  killed  in  the  town. 

The  pillage  of  the  houses  continued  all  night.  From 
time  to  time  firing  was  heard,  lamentable  cries  rose  from 
the  streets,  from  the  houses,  even  in  the  mosques.  These 
cries  were  uttered  by  soldiers  dragged  from  their  hiding- 
places  and  killed,  by  inhabitants  defending  their  treasure, 
by  fathers  and  husbands  striving  to  save  their  wives  and 
daughters  from  the  brutality  of  the  soldiers. 

The  vengeance  of  heaven  was  hidden  behind  these  cruel- 
ties. The  plague  was  in  Jaffa;  the  French  army  took 
away  with  it  the  germs  of  pestilence. 

With  regard  to  the  prisoners  now  outside  the  town,  they 
were  at  first  seated  on  the  ground  pell-mell  outside  the 
tents,  their  hands  tied  behind  them  with  ropes.  Their 
faces  were  gloomy,  more  with  anxiety  than  anger.  They 
had  seen  the  expression  on  Bonaparte's  face  when  he  saw 
them  ;  they  noticed,  but  without  comprehending  it,  the 
reprimand  given  to  their  captors  ;  but  what  they  did  not 
understand  they  guessed. 

Some  ventured  to  say,  "  We  are  hungry  ;  "  others,  "  We 
are  thirsty."  Water  was  brought  for  all,  and  a  piece  of 
bread  for  each,  taken  from  the  rations  of  the  army.  This 
distribution  seemed  to  reassure  them  a  little. 

As  general  after  general  arrived  from  the  town  he  re- 
ceived orders  to  go  to  the  tent  of  the  commander-in-chief. 
They  all  complained  of  the  insufficiency  of  rations.  The 
only  men  who  had  eaten  and  drunk  their  fill  were  those 


CARNAGE.  269 

who  had  entered  the  town  and  had  the  right  to  pillage; 
these  were  less  than  one  fourth  of  the  army.  The  rest 
muttered  angrily  when  they  saw  their  bread  t:aken  to  feed 
enemies  saved  from  their  legitimate  vengeance  ;  for,  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  war,  Jaffa  having  been  taken  by  assault, 
all  soldiers  who  were  in  the  town  ought  to  have  been  put  to 
the  sword. 

The  council  of  war  assembled.  Five  questions  were  laid 
before  it  :  — 

Should  the  prisoners  be  sent  to  Egypt?  To  send  them 
to  Egypt  required  a  large  escort,  and  the  army  was  already 
too  weak  in  a  region  so  deadly  hostile.  Besides,  how  could 
they  be  fed,  they  and  the  escort,  on  their  way  to  Cairo, 
through  an  enemy's  country,  which  the  army  had  just  laid 
waste  on  its  march  ?  —  for  no  rations  could  be  issued  to 
them  for  the  journey. 

Should  they  be  embarked  ?  There  were  no  ships  ;  all 
had  been  destroyed  at  Aboukir.  The  sea  was  a  desert,  or 
at  least,  no  friendly  sail  was  to  be  seen. 

Should  they  be  set  at  liberty  ?  Such  men  would  at  once 
reinforce  the  pacha  at  Saint-Jean-d'Acre,  or  iiing  themselves 
into  the  mountains  of  Xaplous,  and  then  from  each  ravine 
the  army  would  receive  the  fire  of  invisible  sharpshooters. 

Should  they  be  incorporated  disarmed  among  the  Repub- 
lican soldiers  ?  But  here  again  was  the  question  of  pro- 
visions ;  if  the  supplies  were  scarce  alread}^  for  ten 
thousand  men,  how  could  they  support  fourteen  thousand  ? 
And  again,  look  at  the  danger  of  such  companions  in  an 
enemy's  country  ;  they  would  kill  wherever  they  could  in 
return  for  the  life  thus  granted  to  them.  What  is  a  dog  of  a 
Christian  to  a  Turk  ?  To  kill  an  infidel  is  a  pious  act  and 
meritorious  in  the  eyes  of  the  prophet. 

At  the  fifth  question  Bonaparte  rose  before  it  could  be 
put. 

"  Let  us  wait  till  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

What  he  waited  for,  he  did  not  know  himself.  He  really 
waited  for  one  of  those  chance  pieces  of  luck  which  pre- 


270  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

vent  a  great  crime,  and  are  therefore  called  a  blessing  of 
Providence.     He  waited  in  vain. 

On  the  fourth  day  it  became  absolutely  necessary  to  settle 
the  question  postponed  the  evening  before,  — 

Should  the  prisoners  be  shot  ? 

The  complaints  of  the  soldiers  were  many  ;  the  difficulty 
was  increasing  ;  the  troops  might  take  the  matter  into  their 
own  hands,  and  give  an  appearance  of  mutiny  and  murder 
to  what  was  really  an  exigency  of  war. 

The  sentence  was  unanimous  except  for  one  vote.  One 
member  of  the  council  did  not  vote.  The  unhappy  men 
were  sentenced  to  be  shot. 

Bonaparte  rushed  from  the  tent,  and  stood  gazing  at  the 
sea.  A  tempest  of  human  feeling  rose  in  his  heai-t.  He 
had  not  yet  acquired  the  stoicism  of  battlefields  ;  the  man 
who  witnessed  Austerlitz,  Eylau,  and  the  Moscowa  without 
blinking  was  not  yet  sufficiently  familiar  with  death  to 
cast  so  huge  a  prey  to  it  at  one  stroke  without  remorse. 
On  board  the  vessel  which  had  brought  him  to  Egypt,  his 
compassion,  like  that  of  Caesar,  had  surprised  those  who 
witnessed  it.  It  was  impossible  in  so  long  a  passage  that 
accidents  should  not  happen,  and  some  men  fell  into  the  sea. 
No  sooner  did  Bonaparte  hear  the  cry,  "  Man  overboard  !  " 
than  he  rushed  on  deck,  if  he  was  not  there  already,  and 
ordered  the  ship  brought  to.  From  that  moment  he  had  no 
rest  till  tlie  man  was  rescued.  Bourrienne  received  orders 
to  give  large  rewards  to  the  sailors  who  saved  him,  and  if 
there  was  any  among  them  who  was  undergoing  punishment 
for  faults  of  service,  the  general  pardoned  him  and  gave 
him  money.  One  dark  night  the  sound  of  a  heavy  body 
falling  into  the  water  was  heard.  Bonaparte  as  usual 
rushed  on  deck  and  ordered  the  vessel  hove  to.  The  sailors, 
who  knew  that  there  was  not  only  a  good  action  to  do  but 
a  good  reward  to  be  earned,  sprang  into  a  boat  with  their 
usual  courage  and  alacrity.  At  the  end  of  five  minutes, 
in  answer  to  Bonaparte's  incessant  question,  "  Have  they 
got  him  ?     Have  they  saved  him  ?"  a  roar  of  laughter  was 


CARNAGE.  271 

heard.  The  "  man  overboard  "  was  a  quarter  of  beef 
dropped  from  the  galley. 

"  Give  the  men  double,  Bourrienne,"  said  Bonaparte  ; 
"  it  might  have  been  a  man,  and  the  next  time  they  will 
stop  to  think  whether  it  is  n't  half  a  bullock." 

The  order  for  the  execution  of  the  prisoners  of  course 
had  to  come  from  the  commander-in-chief.  He  did  not  give 
it,  and  time  went  on.  At  last  he  ordered  his  horse,  sprang 
into  the  saddle,  took  an  escort  of  twenty  men,  and  galloped 
away,  saying  :  — 

''Do  it." 

He  could  not  bring  himself  to  say  :  "  Shoot  them." 

Such  a  scene  as  then  passed  is  not  to  be  described.  The 
great  massacres  of  helpless  men  which  we  read  of  in 
antiquity  ought  to  have  no  place  in  modern  history.  Out 
of  four  thousand  a  few  escaped,  because,  flinging  themselves 
into  the  sea,  they  swam  to  a  reef  beyond  the  reach  of 
guns. 

Until  the  army  reached  Saint-Jean-d'Acre  and  military 
duty  obliged  the  two  young  men  to  take  the  orders  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  neither  Eugène  Beauharnais  nor  Croisier 
dared  present  themselves  before  Bonaparte. 

On  the  18th  of  iVIarch  the  army  encamped  before  the 
walls  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre.  In  spite  of  the  English  frigates 
lying  broadside  to  the  shore  in  the  port,  a  few  young  men, 
among  them  the  sheik  of  Ahar,  Roland,  and  the  Comte 
Mailly  de  Château-Renaud,  asked  permission  to  go  and  bathe 
from  the  shore.  The  permission  was  granted.  Mailly,  in 
diving,  caught  hold  of  a  leather  sack  which  was  floating 
beneath  the  surface.  He  felt  curious  to  see  its  contents, 
and  the  bathers  drew  it  ashore.  It  was  tied  with  a  rope 
and  seemed  to  contain  a  human  body. 

The  rope  was  unfastened,  the  sack  emptied  on  the  sand, 
and  Mailly  recognized  the  head  and  body  of  his  brother, 
sent  with  a  flag  of  truce  a  month  earlier,  whom  Djezzar  had 
just  had  beheaded  on  seeing  the  dust  raised  by  the  approach 
of  the  French  vanguard. 


272  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


IV. 

ANTIQUITY    IN   THESE   DATS. 

A.8  we  have  had  the  good  fortune  of  finding  readers  intel- 
ligent enough  to  encourage  us  in  writing  a  book  of  which  the 
mere  story  is  a  secondary  consideration,  we  trust  those 
readers  will  permit  us  not  only  to  give  the  present  history 
of  the  places  through  which  our  heroes  pass,  but  also  the 
past  history  of  those  famous  localities.  There  is  an  inde- 
scribable charm  for  the  philosopher,  for  the  poet,  and  even 
for  the  dreamer,  in  turning  over  a  soil  made  of  the  ashes  of 
generations  long  since  passed  away  ;  and  nowhere  do  we 
find  more  traces  of  great  historic  catastrophes  than  in  Egypt 
and  in  Syria,  —  solemn  events,  of  which  time  cannot  fail  to 
reduce  the  substance  and  efface  the  outlines  until  at  last 
they  will  be  lost  like  ruins  and  spectres  of  ruins  in  the 
thick  and  ever  thickening  darkness  of  the  past. 

Thus  it  is  with  the  town  from  which  we  have  just  heard 
cries  of  anguish,  ferocity,  and  carnage  issuing  from  its 
battered  walls  and  burning  houses.  The  rapidity  of  our 
narrative  and  our  desire  to  enter  modern  Jaffa  with  the 
young  hero  have  prevented  us  from  saying  to  our  readers 
a  few  words  on  ancient  Jaffa. 

•'  Jaffo,"  in  Hebrew,  means  beauty.  "  Joppa,"  in  Phoeni- 
cian, means  height.  Jaffa  is  to  the  eastern  gulf  of  the  Medi- 
terranean what  Djeddah  is  to  the  middle  of  the  fled  Sea. 
It  is  a  city  of  pilgrims.  All  Christian  pilgrims  going  to 
Jerusalem  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Christ  pass  through  Jaffa. 
All  pilgrim  JNIussulmans  on  their  way  to  Mecca  to  visit  the 
tomb  of  Mohammed  stop  at  Djeddah. 

As  we  read  to-day  the  great  work  on  Egypt,  that  work  to 
which  all  the  most  learned  men  of  our  epoch  have  contrib- 


ANTIQUITY   IN   THESE   DAYS.  273 

uted,  we  are  surprised  to  find  so  few  of  the  luminous  pointj 
which  are  scattered  through  the  past  to  light  and  beckon 
the  seeker  after  knowledge  like  a  pharos. 

We  shall  try  to  do  what  they  have  not  done. 

The  author  who  gives  to  Jaffa  —  that  is  to  say,  to  the 
Phœnician  Joppa  —  its  remotest  antiquity  is  Pomponius 
Mela,  who  declares  that  the  town  was  built  before  the 
Deluge.  Est  Joppe  ante  diluvium  condita,  he  says.  And  it 
must  really  be  true  that  Joppa  was  founded  before  the 
Deluge,  because  the  historian  Josephus  in  his  "  Antiquities  " 
agrees  with  the  Chaldean  Beroses  and  with  Nicolas  of 
Damascus,  not  exactly  that  the  Ark  was  built  in  Joppa  (for 
that  would  have  put  him  in  contradiction  with  the  Bible),  but 
that  it  rested  at  Joppa.  In  their  time,  they  say,  its  remains 
were  still  shown  to  incredulous  travellers,  and  the  inhabitants 
used,  as  an  efficacious  remedy  for  all  diseases,  a  universal 
panacea,  the  tar  powder  to  which  the  Ark  was  said  to  have 
been  reduced. 

It  was  at  Joppa,  according  to  Pliny,  that  Andromeda  was 
chained  to  the  rock  to  be  devoured  by  the  monster,  and  was 
delivered  by  Perseus  mounted  on  the  Chimsera  and  armed 
with  the  stupefying  buckler  of  Medusa.  Pliny  also  declares 
that  during  the  reign  of  Adrian  the  staple-holes  of  the 
chains  of  Andromeda  were  still  visible  ;  and  Saint- Jérôme, 
a  witness  whom  no  one  will  accuse  of  partiality,  declares 
that  he  saw  them. 

The  skeleton  of  the  monster,  forty  feet  long,  was  believed 
by  the  inhabitants  of  Joppa  to  be  that  of  their  divinity 
Ceto.  The  water  of  the  fountain  in  which  Perseus  washed 
himself  after  destroying  the  monster  continued  to  be  stained 
with  his  blood.  Pausanias  relates  this,  and  says  that  he 
saw  the  red  water  with  his  own  eyes. 

This  goddess  Ceto  of  whom  Pliny  speaks,  colitur  fabulosa 
Ceto,  and  whom  the  historians  have  transformed  into 
Derceto,  was  she  whom  tradition  declares  to  have  been  the 
mother  of  Semiramis.  Diodorus  of  Sicily  relates  the 
fable    of    this    unknown    mother,    giving    it   the    antique 

VOL.    II- —  18 


274  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

charm  which  poetizes  fable  without  removing  its  sensuous 
attraction. 

"There  is,"  he  says,  "in  Syria,  a  town  called  Ascalon, 
overhanging  a  broad,  deep  lake  in  which  the  fish  abound, 
and  near  which  is  a  temple  dedicated  to  a  celebrated  goddess 
whom  the  Syrians  call  Derceto.  She  has  the  head  and  face 
of  a  woman,  the  rest  of  her  is  a  fish.  The  learned  of  the 
nation  say  that  Venus,  being  offended  with  Derceto,  inspired 
her  with  a  love  for  a  young  priest  like  that  she  inspired  in 
Pliœdra  and  in  Sappho.  Derceto  had  a  daughter  by  him. 
She  felt  such  shame  for  her  misconduct  that  she  caused 
the  young  man  to  disappear,  exposed  the  child  in  a  barren 
rocky  place,  and  threw  herself  into  the  lake  where  she  was 
transformed  into  a  siren.  That  is  why  the  Syrians  revere 
the  fish  as  gods  and  abstain  from  eatiug  them, 

"  But  the  girl  was  saved  and  fed  by  doves,  who  came  in 
great  numbers  and  made  their  nests  in  the  rocks  among 
which  she  lay.  A  shepherd  found  her  and  brought  her  up 
with  as  much  love  as  though  she  were  his  own  child.  Ee 
named  her  Semiramis,  which  means  'the  daughter  of 
doves.'  " 

If  we  believe  Diodorus,  it  was  to  this  daughter  of  doves, 
to  this  haughty  Semiramis,  to  this  Avife  and  murderess  of 
Ninus,  —  who  fortified  Babylon  and  hung  from  its  roofs 
those  magnificent  gardens,  the  wonder  of  antiquity,  —  it  was 
to  her  that  the  Orientals  owe  the  splendid  costume  which 
they  wear  even  to  our  own  day.  When  she  reached  the 
height  of  her  power,  having  conquered  the  Arabia  of  Egypt, 
a  part  of  Ethiopia,  Libya,  and  all  Asia  as  far  as  the  Indus, 
she  had  found  it  necessary  to  invent  for  her  journeys  a 
style  of  clothing  that  was  convenient  and  also  elegant  ;  in 
which  she  could  not  only  accomplish  the  ordinary  acts  of 
life,  but  also  ride  a  horse  and  fight  a  battle.  This  costume 
was  so  appropriate  that  it  was  adopted  by  all  the  peoples 
whom  she  conquered. 

"  She  was  so  beautiful,"  says  Valerius  Maximus,  "  that 
one  day  when  a  riot  broke  out  in  her  capital  just  as  she  was 


ANTIQUITY  IN  THESE  DAYS.  275 

dressing,  she  went  as  she  was  to  quell  it,  half-naked  with 
flowing  hair,  and  order  was  restored  at  once." 

We  may  perhaps  find  the  cause  of  Venus's  hatred  to 
Derceto  in  Hyginus  ;  he  says  ;  — 

"  The  Syrian  goddess  who  was  worshipped  at  Hieropolis 
was  Venus.  An  egg  fell  from  heaven  into  the  Euphrates  ; 
the  fish  brought  it  ashore,  where  it  was  hatched  by  doves. 
Venus  came  out  of  it,  and  the  Syrians  made  her  their 
goddess.  Jupiter,  at  her  request,  took  the  fish  to  heaven, 
while  she,  out  of  gratitude  to  her  nurses,  harnessed  the 
doves  to  her  chariot." 

The  famous  temple  of  Dagon,  where  the  statue  of  the  god 
is  seen,  overthrown  before  the  ark  with  both  hands  broken, 
is  in  the  town  of  Azoth  half  way  between  Joppa  and 
Ascalon.  Kead  the  Bible,  that  great  book  of  history  and 
of  poesy,  and  you  will  see  that  the  cedars  of  Lebanon  were 
first  brought  to  Joppa  on  their  way  to  build  the  temple  of 
Solomon.  You  will  see,  too,  that  it  was  from  the  port  of 
Joppa  that  the  prophet  Jonah  embarked  for  Tarsus,  fleeing 
from  the  face  of  the  Lord. 

Then,  turning  from  the  Bible  to  Josephus,  which  we 
might  call  a  continuation  of  the  Bible,  you  will  find  that 
Judas  Maccabseus,  in  order  to  avenge  the  deaths  of  his  two 
brothers  whom  the  inhabitants  of  Joppa  had  treacherously 
put  to  death,  came  with  a  sword  in  one  hand  and  a  torch  m 
the  other,  and  setting  fire  to  the  ships  that  were  anchored 
in  the  harbor,  he  put  to  death  by  the  sword  all  who  escaped 
the  flames. 

"  Now,  there  was  at  Joppa,"  says  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  "  a  woman  named  Tabitha,  which  in  Greek  is 
Dorcas  :  this  woman  was  full  of  good  works  and  alms-deeds 
which  she  did.  It  happened  that  falling  sick,  she  died  ; 
and  when  they  had  washed  her  they  laid  her  in  an  upper 
chamber.  Now  as  Lydda  is  near  Joppa,  the  disciples  had 
heard  that  Peter  was  there,  and  they  sent  for  him,  asking 
him  not  to  delay  his  coming.  When  he  came  they  took 
him  to  the  upper  chamber  where  the  body  was  ;  and  all  the 


376  THE  FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

widows  stood  about  him  weeping  and  showing  the  tunica 
and  other  garments  the  good  Dorcas  had  made  for  them. 
But  Peter,  putting  them  all  out,  knelt  down  and  prayed. 
Then,  turning  to  the  body,  he  said  :  — 

"  *  Tabitha,  arise  !  ' 

"  She  opened  her  eyes  ;  and  when  she  saw  Peter  she  sat 
up.  Peter  gave  her  his  hand  and  helped  her  to  rise,  and 
having  called  in  the  widows  and  the  disciples,  he  presented 
her  to  them  living.  This  miracle  became  known  through- 
out all  Joppa,  so  that  many  persons  believed  in  the  Lord. 
Peter  stayed  some  days  longer  in  Joppa,  at  the  house  of 
à  tanner  named  Simon.  It  was  there  that  the  servants  of 
the  centurion  Cornelius  found  him  when  they  came  to  ask 
him  to  go  into  Csesarea.  And  it  was  in  Simon's  house  that 
he  had  the  vision  that  commanded  him  to  preach  the  gospel 
to  the  Gentiles." 

At  the  time  of  the  uprising  of  the  Jews  against  Rome 
Sextius  besieged  Joppa,  took  it  by  assault,  and  burned  it. 
Eight  thousand  of  its  inhabitants  perished  ;  but  it  was  soon 
rebuilt.  As  the  new  town  was  a  harbor  of  pirates  who 
infested  the  coasts  of  Syria  and  continued  their  depredations 
to  Greece  and  even  to  Egypt,  the  Emperor  Vespasian  took  it, 
razed  it  to  the  ground  from  the  first  to  the  last  house,  and 
built  a  fortress  there. 

But  Josephus,  in  his  "  History  of  the  Wars  of  Jews," 
relates  that  another  town  was  immediately  built  at  the  foot 
of  Vespasian's  fortress,  which  was  made  the  seat  of  a 
bishopric,  or,  we  should  say,  of  a  bishop,  from  the  reign  of 
Constantine  (a.  d.  330)  to  the  Invasion  of  the  Saracens  (636). 

This  bishopric  was  in  existence  at  the  time  of  the  first 
Crusade  (1095),  and  was  under  the  rule  of  the  metropolitan 
of  Csesarea.  It  was  erected  into  a  county  by  Baudouin  I., 
Emperor  of  Constantinople  and  Count  of  Flanders. 

Saint  Louis  himself  came  to  Jaffa,  and  we  may  read  in 
his  artless  historian,  Joinville,  an  account  of  his  visit  to  the 
Comte  de  Japhe,  as  the  worthy  old  chevalier  calls  his 
entertainer. 


ANTIQUITY    IN   THESE   DAYS.  277 

This  "  Comte  de  Japhe,"  was  Gautier  de  Brienne,  who  did 
his  best  to  clean  and  plaster  up  his  town  m  honor  of  the 
visit,  though  even  then  its  condition  was  so  pitiable  that 
Saint  Louis  was  ashamed  of  it  and  undertook  at  his  own 
charge  to  raise  the  walls  and  embellish  the  churches.  He 
there  received,  one  day,  the  news  of  the  death  of  his 
mother. 

"  When  the  holy  king,"  says  Joinville,  "  saw  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Tyre  and  his  confessor  enter  his  presence  with 
sad  faces,  he  turned  and  went  into  his  oratory,  which  was 
his  arsenal  against  all  the  trials  of  this  world.  Then,  when 
they  had  told  him  the  fatal  news,  he  threw  himself  on  his 
knees  and  clasping  his  hands,  said,  weeping  ;  — 

"  I  thank  thee,  0  God,  for  having  lent  me  my  mother  for 
so  long  as  it  pleased  thee,  and  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast 
now,  in  thy  good  pleasure,  recalled  her  to  thee.  It  is  true 
that  I  loved  her  above  all  other  human  beings,  and  she 
deserved  it  ;  but  since  thou  hast  taken  her  from  me,  blessed 
be  thy  name  forevermore." 

The  restorations  of  Saint  Louis  were  destroyed  in  1268  by 
Bibas,  pacha  of  Egypt,  who  razed  the  citadel,  and  sent  its 
woods  and  precious  marbles  to  Cairo,  to  be  used  in  the 
building  of  his  mosque. 

At  the  time  when  Monconys  visited  Palestine,  he  found 
nothing  left  of  the  place  but  an  old  castle  and  three 
caverns  burrowed  in  the  rock. 

We  have  seen  in  what  state  Bonaparte  found  it,  and  the 
state  in  which  he  left  it.  We  shall  pass  once  more  through 
Joppa,  which  for  Bonaparte  was  neither  Jaffa  the  Beautiful 
nor  Joppa  the  Tall,  but  Jaffa  the  Fatal. 


278  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


V. 


SIR    SIDNEY    SMITH. 

At  day-break  on  the  18th  of  March  Bonaparte,  accompanied 
only  by  the  young  sheik  of  Ahar,  Koland  de  Montrevel,  and 
the  Comte  de  Mailly,  whom  he  had  not  been  able  to  console 
with  many  kind  words  for  the  death  of  his  brother,  gal- 
loped up  while  the  French  army  was  crossing  the  little 
river  Kerdaneah  on  a  bridge  constructed  during  the  night. 
Bonaparte,  we  say,  thus  attended,  galloped  up  a  little  hill 
about  six  thousand  feet  from  the  town  he  had  come  to 
besiege. 

From  the  top  of  this  eminence  he  could  survey  the 
whole  country  and  see  not  only  the  two  British  vessels, 
the  "  Tigre,"  and  "  Theseus,"  riding  at  anchor  in  the  offing, 
but  also  the  troops  of  the  pacha,  occupying  all  the  gardens 
that  surrounded  Saint-Jean-d'Acre. 

"  Let  them  scatter  that  mob  in  the  gardens,"  he  said, 
"  and  drive  those  fellows  into  the  town." 

As  he  addressed  no  one  in  particular  when  he  gave  the 
order,  all  three  of  the  young  men  darted  away  like  three 
hawks  after  one  prey.  But,  in  his  strident  voice,  he 
shouted  :  — 

"  Roland  !  Sheik  of  Ahar  !  " 

The  two  young  men,  hearing  their  names,  reined  in  their 
horses  till  the  animals  were  on  their  haunches,  and  returned 
to  their  position  by  the  general.  As  for  the  Comte  de 
Mailly,  he  continued  his  way  with  a  hundred  sharpshoot- 
ers, as  many  more  grenadiers,  and  the  same  number  of 
Voltigeurs,  and,  putting  his  horse  at  a  gallop,  he  charged 
at  their  head. 


SIR   SIDNEY   SMITH.  279 

Bonaparte  had  great  confidence  in  omens  of  war.  That 
was  why  he  had  been  so  hurt  by  Croisier's  hesitation  at  their 
first  engagement  with  the  Bedouins  and  had  blamed  him  so 
bitterly.  From  where  he  now  stood  he  could  see  with  his 
field-glass,  which  was  excellent,  the  whole  movement  of  the 
troops.  He  saw  Eugène  Beauharnais  and  Croisier  (who 
had  not  dared  to  speak  to  him  since  the  affair  of  Jaffa) 
take,  one  the  command  of  the  grenadiers,  the  other  that  of 
the  sharpshooters,  while  Mailly,  full  of  deference  for  his 
companions,  took  that  of  the  Voltigeurs. 

If  the  general-in-chief  wanted  the  omen  to  be  forth- 
coming speedily,  he  ought  to  have  been  satisfied.  While 
Roland  was  biting  the  silver  handle  of  his  whip  with  im- 
patience, and  the  sheik  of  Ahar,  on  the  contrary,  looked  on 
with  all  the  patience  of  an  Arab,  Bonaparte  saw  the  three 
detachments  pass  through  the  ruins  of  a  village,  through  a 
Turkish  cemetery,  and  through  a  little  wood  which  showed 
by  its  greenness  that  it  grew  about  a  spring,  and  fall  upon 
the  enemy,  in  spite  of  rapid  volleys  poured  into  them  by 
the  Arnaouts  and  the  Albanians,  whom  he  recognized  by 
their  gold-embroidered  garments  and  their  long  guns 
mounted  in  silver.  A  moment  more  and  that  glittering 
enemy  were  overthrown  at  the  first  onset. 

The  musketry  on  our  side  was  vigorous  and  continued  as 
we  chased  the  fugitives,  the  loudest  noise  of  all  being  that 
of  the  grenades  which  our  men  threw  with  their  hands 
after  those  they  were  pursuing.  Both  sides  reached  the 
toot  of  the  walls  together.  But  the  posterns  were  instantly 
closed  behind  the  Mussulmans,  and  the  ramparts  belched 
forth  a  sheet  of  flame.  Our  three  hundred  men  were  forced 
therefore  to  withdraw,  having  killed  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  of  the  enemy.  The  three  young  men  had  shown 
wonderful  courage  ;  emulating  each  other  they  performed 
prodigies,  Eugène,  in  a  hand  to  hand  struggle,  had  killed 
aa  Arnaoiit  a  head  taller  than  himself.  Mailly,  finding  him- 
self ten  paces  from  a  group  that  made  stand  to  resist,  fired 
both  pistols  into  their  midst  and  followed  with  a  bound. 


280  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Croisier  had  sabred  two  Arabs  who  attacked  him  at  once, 
splitting  the  head  of  one  with  his  sabre  aud  breaking  its 
blade  in  the  breast  of  the  other,  returning  at  last  with  the 
bloody  fragment  dangling  from  his  wrist  by  the  sword- 
knot. 

Bonaparte  turned  to  the  sheik  of  Ahar. 

"  Give  me  your  sabre  in  exchange  for  mine,"  he  said,, 
detaching  his  own  weapon  from  his  belt  and  offering  it  to 
the  sheik. 

The  latter  kissed  the  hilt  of  the  sabre  and  hastened  to 
give  his  own  in  exchange. 

"  Roland,"  said  Bonaparte,  ''go  and  give  my  compliments. 
to  Mailly  and  Eugène  ;  as  for  Croisier,  give  him  that  sabre 
and  say  exactly  this  :  '  Here  is  a  sabre  the  commander- 
in-chief  sends  you.     He  has  seen  you,'  " 

Roland  departed  at  a  gallop.  The  young  men  praised  by 
Bonaparte  bounded  in  their  saddles  with  joy.  Croisier,  like 
the  sheik  of  Ahar,  kissed  the  sabre  that  was  sent  to  him, 
flung  away  his  broken  blade  and  its  scabbard,  fastened  that 
which  Bonaparte  had  sent  him  to  his  belt,  and  answered  : 

"Thank  the  commander-in-chief  for  me,  and  tell  him 
he  shall  be  satisfied  with  me  at  the  first  assault." 

The  whole  army  was  echeloned  on  the  hillside,  where 
Bonaparte  sat  motionless  on  his  horse  like  an  equestrian 
statue.  The  soldiers  had  uttered  loud  cries  of  joy  as  they 
saw  their  companions  driving  the  IMaugrabins  before  them 
as  the  wind  drives  the  sands  of  the  shore.  Like  Bonaparte 
himself,  the  army  saw  no  great  difference  between  the 
fortifications  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre  and  those  of  Jaffa,  and, 
like  Bonaparte  again,  they  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  the 
town  would  be  taken  at  the  second  or  third  assault. 

The  French  were  still  ignorant  that  Saint-Jean-d'Acre 
contained  two  men  who  in  themselves  were  worth  more 
than  a  whole  army  of  Mussulmans.  They  were  the  English 
commodore.  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  who  commanded  the  "Tigre'^ 
and  "  Theseus,"  now  so  gracefully  at  anchor  in  the  Gulf 
of   Carmel,    and  Colonel    Phelippeaux,  who  prepared  and 


SIR   SIDNEY   SMITH.  281 

directed    the    defences    of  the    fortress   of  Djezzar     the 
Butcher. 

Phelippeaux,  the  friend  and  companion  of  Bonaparte 
at  Brienne,  his  equal  in  college  compositions,  his  rival  in 
his  wonderful  mathematical  successes,  was  now  thrown 
by  accident,  chance,  or  fate  among  his  enemies. 

Sidney  Smith,  whom  the  victims  of  the  18th  Fructidor 
knew  in  the  Temple,  and  who,  by  a  strange  coincidence  of 
fate,  escaped  from  his  prison  at  the  very  moment  when 
Bonaparte  left  Paris  for  Toulon,  reached  Loudon  and  was 
soon  after  sent  to  the  Mediterranean  in  command  of  a 
squadron.  Phelippeaux  was  the  man  who  enabled  him  to 
escape  ;  hazardous  as  the  enterprise  had  been,  he  had 
succeeded  in  effecting  it.  False  orders  were  drawn  up 
purporting  to  remove  the  Englishman  to  another  prison. 
The  signature  of  the  minister  of  police  had  been  obtained 
for  gold.  From  whom  ?  Perhaps  from  himself  ;  who 
knows  ? 

Under  the  name  of  Loger  and  in  the  dress  of  an  adjutant- 
general  Phelippeaux  presented  himself  at  the  prison  and 
laid  the  warrant  before  the  officer  in  charge.  The  latter 
examined  it  minutely  and  saw  that  it  was  all  in  order. 
But  he  said  :  — 

"For  a  prisoner  of  this  importance  you  ought  to  have 
at  least  six  men  as  a  guard." 

The  false  adjutant  replied  :  — 

"  From  a  man  of  his  importance  I  only  need  his  word  of 
honor."  Then,  turning  to  the  prisoner,  he  added:  *' Com- 
modore, you  are  a  naval  officer  and  I  am  a  military  man  ; 
your  word  of  honor  that  you  will  not  attempt  to  escape  me 
will  be  sufficient  :  if  you  will  give  it  I  shall  not  need  an 
escort." 

Sir  Sidney,  who,  like  a  loyal  Englishman,  could  not  lie, 
even  to  escape,  replied  :  — 

"Monsieur,  if  that  suffices  you,  I  can  promise  to  follow 
you  wherever  you  take  me." 

And  the  adjutant-general  took  Sir  Sidney  Smith  back  to 


282  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

England.  The  two  men  were  now  let  loose,  as  it  were,  on 
Bonaparte.  Phelippeaux  was  charged  with  the  defence  of 
the  fortress.  The  English  commodore  supplied  it  with  pro- 
visions and  arms.  Where  Bonaparte  expected  to  find  only 
a  stupid  Turkish  commander,  as  at  Gaza  and  at  Jaffa,  he 
found  all  the  science  of  a  compatriot,  and  all  the  hatred  ol 
an  Englishman. 

That  same  evening  Bonaparte  despatched  the  major  of 
engineers,  Sanson,  to  reconnoitre  the  counterscarps.  The 
latter  waited  till  the  night  was  darkest.  There  was  no  moon 
and  all  the  conditions  were  favorable  to  the  undertaking. 

He  started  alone,  crossed  the  ruined  village,  the  cemetery, 
and  the  gardens  from  which  the  Arabs  had  been  dislodged 
in  the  morning  and  driven  into  the  town.  Seeing  that  the 
shadow  became  deeper,  owing  to  a  great  mass  rising  before 
him,  which  could  be  no  other  than  the  fortress  itself,  he 
began  to  crawl  along  on  all  fours,  and  to  study  the  ground, 
foot  by  foot.  Just  as  he  came,  feeling  his  way  carefully,  to 
a  spot  where  the  ground  sloped  rapidly,  which  proved  to 
him  that  the  moat  was  without  revetment,  he  was  seen  by  a 
sentinel  whose  eyes  were  probably  accustomed  to  the  dark- 
ness, or  who  had  the  faculty,  like  some  animals,  of  seeing 
clearly  at  night. 

The  man  challenged.  Sanson  made  no  answer.  The  same 
challenge  was  repeated  once  and  again  ;  then  a  shot  was 
lired  and  struck  the  extended  hand  of  the  engineer  officer. 
In  spite  of  the  horrible  pain  he  uttered  no  sound,  but  crept 
backward  cautiously,  satisfied  that  he  had  discovered  all 
that  he  needed  to  know  about  the  moat  and  could  make  his 
report  to  Bonaparte. 

The  next  day  the  trenching  was  begun.  They  profited 
by  the  gardens,  by  the  moats  of  the  ancient  Ptolemais,  of 
which  we  will  relate  the  history,  as  we  have  related  that  of 
Jaffa,  and  by  an  aqueduct  which  crossed  the  glacis;  but, 
unfortunately  (being  ignorant  of  the  powerful  scientific 
assistance  our  ill-luck  had  given  to  Djezzar  pacha)  they 
made  these  trenches  scarcely  three  feet  deep.     When  the 


SIR   SIDNEY   SMITH.  283 

giant  Kleber  saw  them,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said 
to  Bonaparte  :  — 

''That's  a  fine  trench,  general;  it  comes  just  to  my 
knee  !  " 

March  24th  Sir  Sidney  Smith  seized  two  vessels  which 
were  bringing  to  Bonaparte  his  heavy  artillery  and  muni- 
tions. This  capture  was  seen  by  the  whole  French  army 
without  any  power  of  opposing  it,  and  we  were  thus  in  the 
strange  position  of  besiegers  thundered  upon  by  their  own 
guns. 

On  the  25th  a  breach  was  made  and  the  assault  attempted  ; 
but  it  was  stopped  almost  immediately  by  a  counterscarp 
and  a  fosse. 

On  the  26th  the  besieged,  led  by  the  Djezzar  in  person, 
made  a  sortie  to  destroy  the  works  already  begun  ;  but  they 
were  instantly  repulsed  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  and 
forced  to  re-enter  the  town. 

Though  the  French  batteries  were  armed  only  with  four 
twelve-pounders,  six  eight-pounders,  and  four  howitzers, 
this  feeble  artillery  was  unmasked  on  the  28th  and  battered 
down  the  tower  against  which  the  chief  attack  was  directed. 

Though  the  Djezzar's  cannon  were  of  heavier  calibre  than 
ours,  they  were  quickly  dismounted,  and  the  tower  presented 
a  practicable  breach.  When  the  wall  fell  and  daylight  was 
seen  beyond  it,  a  yell  of  delight  went  up  from  the  whole 
French  army.  The  grenadiers,  who  were  the  first  to  enter 
Jaffa,  inspired  by  that  recollection  and  convinced  that  it 
was  quite  as  easy  to  take  Acre  as  it  had  been  to  take  Jaffa, 
clamored  with  one  voice  to  be  first  at  the  breach. 

Since  morning  Bonaparte  and  his  staff  had  been  in  the 
trenches  ;  but  still  he  hesitated  to  give  the  order  for  the 
assault.  At  last,  urged  by  Captain  Mailly,  who  came  to 
tell  him  that  he  could  not  restrain  his  grenadiers,  Bonaparte 
decided,  almost  in  spite  of  himself,  to  allow  the  attempt, 
and  called  out:  — 

*'  Very  well,  go  on  then  !  " 

Instantly  the   grenadiers   of  the   69th   brigade,   led  by 


284  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Mailly,  sprang  toward  the  breach  j  but,  to  tHeir  great 
astonishmeut,  where  they  expected  to  find  the  slope  of  the 
moat,  they  encountered  an  escarpment  of  twelve  feet.  Thea 
the  cry  :  '*  Ladders  !  ladders  !  "  was  heard. 

Ladders  were  thrown  into  the  fosse  ;  the  grenadiers 
sprang  to  the  height  of  the  counterscarp.  Mailly  seized  the 
first  ladder  and  applied  it  to  the  breach  ;  twenty  others  were 
applied  beside  it. 

But  the  breach  was  filled  with  Aruaouts  and  Albanians, 
who  fired  point-blank  and  sent  the  assailants  rolling  to 
the  bottom  of  the  moat.  Half  the  ladders  were  broken,  top- 
pling over,  as  they  fell,  the  men  who  were  mounting  them. 
Mailly,  wounded,  fell  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  his. 
The  fire  of  the  besieged  redoubled;  the  grenadiers  were 
forced  to  retreat,  and  to  use  in  remounting  the  counterscarp 
the  ladders  they  had  called  for  to  scale  the  breach. 

Mailly,  wounded  in  the  foot,  could  not  walk  ;  he  entreated 
his  grenadiers  to  take  him  with  them.  One  of  them  lifted 
him  on  his  shoulders,  advanced  ten  steps  and  fell,  with  a 
ball  through  his  head  ;  a  second  man  took  his  place  and  car- 
ried frailly  to  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  where  he,  too,  fell  with 
a  broken  thigh.  Hastening  into  safety  themselves,  the  sol- 
diers paid  no  more  attention  to  Mailly,  whose  voice  was 
heard  crying  out,  though  no  one  stopped  to  listen  to  it  :  — 

"  Shoot  me,  at  least,  if  you  cannot  save  me  !  " 

Poor  Mailly  did  not  suffer  long.  The  moat  was  scarcely 
evacuated  by  the  French  grenadiers  before  the  Turks 
swooped  down  into  it,  and  cut  off  the  heads  of  all  who  lay 
there,  dead  or  wounded. 

Djezzar  pacha,  intending  to  make  a  precious  gift  to  Sir 
Sidney  Smith,  put  those  heads  into  a  sack  and  sent  them 
to  the  commodore. 

Sir  Sidney  looked  at  the  mournful  trophy  sadly,  and 
said  :  — 

"  This  is  what  it  is  to  be  allied  with  barbarians  I  " 


PT0LEMAI3.  285 


VI. 


PTOLEMAIS. 

Whatever  indifference  Bonaparte  may  have  shown  in 
the  matter  of  Jerusalem,  which  he  passed  within  twenty 
miles  without  troubling  himself  to  stop  and  see  it,  he  was 
extremely  interested  in  the  spot  on  which  he  now  stood. 
Not  being  able,  or  not  wishing,  to  follow  the  example  of 
Alexander,  who  went  out  of  his  way  to  visit  the  high 
priest  at  Jerusalem  after  returning  from  the  conquest  ot 
India,  he  nevertheless  regarded  it  as  a  matter  of  interest 
to  stand  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Ptolemais,  and  to  pitch 
his  tent  where  Richard  Cœur-de-Lion  and  Philip  Augustus 
had  pitched  theirs. 

Far  from  being  indifferent  to  such  historical  conjunctions, 
his  pride  delighted  in  them,  and  he  chose  for  his  head- 
quarters the  little  hill  from  which,  on  the  day  of  his 
arrival,  he  had  looked  at  the  fight,  feeling  sure  that  on 
that  very  spot  the  feet  of  the  heroes  who  had  preceded 
him  must  have  stood.  But  he  —  the  leader  of  a  political 
Crusade,  who  bore  the  banner  of  his  own  fortunes  and  left 
behind  him  all  the  religious  ideas  which  had  led  millions 
of  men  from  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  to  Saint  Louis  to  the 
spot  where  he  then  stood  —  he,  on  the  contrary,  brought 
with  him  the  science  of  the  eighteenth  century,  Volney 
and  Dupuis,  —  that  is  to  say,  scepticism.  Indifferent  to 
the  Christian  tradition,  he  was,  on  the  other  hand,  keenly 
alive  to  the  historical  legend. 

The  very  night  the  first  assault  failed  and  poor  Mailly 
perished  by  the  same  fate  that  overtook  his  brother, 
Bonaparte  assembled  in  his  tent  all  his  generals  and  staff 


286  THE   FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

officers  and  told  Bourrienne  to  lay  out  the  few  books  his 
library  contained.  Unfortunately  there  were  not  many  on 
the  history  of  Syria.  Plutarch,  and  the  lives  of  Cicero, 
Pompey,  Alexander,  and  Antony  were  there,  but  as  for 
books  of  political  philosophy,  there  were  only  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments  and  a  Mythology.  He  put  one  of  the 
books  we  have  now  enumerated  into  the  hands  of  each  of 
his  best-informed  generals  and  called  for  the  historical 
recollections  of  the  rest,  which,  added  to  his  own,  and  to 
what  might  be  found  in  those  few  books,  was  all  the 
information  he  could  obtain  in  this  desert. 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  information  was  very  in- 
complete. We,  who  are  more  fortunate  than  he,  having 
under  our  eyes  a  whole  library  of  Crusades,  we  shall  lift 
the  veil  of  the  centuries,  and  tell  our  readers  the  history 
of  this  little  corner  of  the  earth  from  the  day  when  it  fell 
to  the  share  of  the  tribe  of  Asher  to  that  when  another 
Cœur-de-Lion  endeavored  to  recover  it  a  third  time  from 
the  Saracens. 

Its  ancient  name  was  Acco,  which  signifies  hot  sand^ 
The  Arabs  now  call  it  Acca.  Subjected  to  Egypt  by  the 
kings  of  the  Greek  dynasty  of  Ptolemy,  who  inherited 
Alexandria  on  the  death  of  the  conqueror  of  India,  it  took, 
somewhere  about  106  b.c.,  the  name  of  Ptolemais. 

Vespasian,  preparing  his  expedition  against  Judea, 
stayed  three  months  at  Ptolemais  and  held  a  court  of  kings 
and  princes  from  all  the  surrounding  countries.  It  was 
there  that  Titus  first  saw  Berenice,  the  daughter  of  Agrippa, 
and  fell  in  love  with  her. 

But  all  that  Bonaparte  possessed  of  this  period  was  the 
tragedy  of  Racine,  fragments  of  which  he  often  made 
Talma  declaim  to  him.  The  Acts  of  the  Apostles  relater 
''From  Tyre  we  sailed  to  Ptolemais,  where  our  navigation 
ended,  and  there  we  saluted  the  brethren  and  stayed 
one  day  with  them."  As  you  probably  remember,  it  is 
Saint  Paul  who  says  that,  and  who  stayed  a  day  at 
Ptolemais. 


PTOLEMAIS.  287 

The  first  siege  of  Ptolemais  by  the  Crusaders  began  in 
1189.  Boah-Eddin,  the  Arabian  historian,  says,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  Christians,  that  they  were  so  numerous  God 
alone  could  count  their  number.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
Christian  writer,  Gauthier  Visinauf,  chronicler  to  Richard 
Coeur-de-Lion,  declares  that  the  army  of  Sala-Eddin  was 
far  more  numerous  than  the  army  of  Darius. 

After  the  battle  of  Tiberias  (of  which  we  shall  havo 
occasion  to  speak  in  relating  the  battle  of  Mount  Tabor), 
Guy  de  Lusignan,  escaping  from  captivity,  came  to 
Ptolemais  on  his  way  to  besiege  Jerusalem,  the  fortifica- 
tions of  the  town  having  just  been  rebuilt,  strong  towers 
defending  it  on  the  side  toward  the  sea.  One  of  these 
towers  was  called  the  Tower  of  Flies,  because  it  was  there 
the  pagans  offered  sacrifices  which  attracted  flies  to  the 
flesh  of  the  victims.  The  other  was  named  the  Accursed 
Tower,  because,  says  Gauthier  in  his  "Itinerary  of  King 
Richard,"  it  was  in  that  tower  that  the  pieces  of  silver  for 
which  Judas  sold  our  Lord  were  minted. 

It  was  also  by  this  very  tower  —  truly  an  Accursed 
Tower  —  that  the  Saracens,  in  1291,  forced  their  way  into 
the  city  and'  seized  it.  Though  ignorant  of  that  fact,  this 
was  the  tower  which  Bonaparte  had  now  attacked,  and 
from  which  his  grenadiers  had  been  obliged  to  fall  back. 

"  Walter  Scott,  in  one  of  his  best  romances,  "  The  Talis- 
man," relates  an  episode  of  that  famous  siege,  which  lasted 
two  years.  The  Arabian  histories,  which  are  much  less 
known,  also  contain  very  curious  accounts  of  it.  Ibn- 
Alatir,  Sala-Eddin's  physician,  has  left  an  interesting 
description  of  the  Moslem  camp. 

"In  the  middle  of  the  encampment,"  Ibn-Alatir  is 
speaking,  "was  a  vast  open  space,  in  which  were  the  huts 
of  the  farriers,  one  hundred  and  forty  of  them.  The  pro- 
portions of  the  rest  of  the  camp  can  be  imagined  from  that. 
In  a  single  kitchen  were  twenty-nine  caldrons,  each  able 
to  contain  a  whole  sheep.  I  myself  counted  the  shops 
which  were  registered  by  the  inspector   of  markets.      I 


288  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

counted  seven  thousand.  Kemark  that  they  were  not 
shops  like  those  we  have  in  towns.  One  of  those  vast 
camp  shops  would  have  made  a  hundred  of  our  small  city 
ones.  All  were  well  stocked.  I  have  heard  say  that 
when  Sala-Eddin  struck  camp  to  retire  to  Karouba,  it  cost 
one  single  butter-man  seventy  pieces  of  gold  to  transport 
his  butter,  short  as  the  distance  was.  As  to  the  number 
of  shops  for  new  clothes  and  old  clothes,  it  passes  all 
imagination.  There  were  over  one  thousand  bath-houses 
in  camp,  kept  by  Africans;  it  cost  a  piece  of  silver  to  take 
a  bath.  As  for  the  camp  of  the  Christians,  it  was  like  a 
fortified  city.  All  the  trades  and  all  the  mechanical  arts 
of  Europe  were  there  represented." 

The  markets  were  supplied  with  meats,  fish,  and 
fruit  as  plentifully  as  if  the  camp  were  the  capital  of 
a  great  kingdom.  There  were  even  churches  with  bell- 
towers;  so  that  the  Saracens  knew  when  the  Christians 
were  called  to  prayer,  and  attacked  them  at  those 
hours. 

"A  poor  English  priest,"  says  Michaud  in  his  "History 
of  the  Crusades,"  "built  at  his  own  cost  on  the  plain  of 
Ptolemais  a  chapel  sacred  to  the  dead.  He  laid  out  a  vast 
cemetery  round  his  chapel  and  had  it  consecrated.  He 
himself  chanted  the  offices  for  the  dead,  and  there  he 
buried  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  of  the  pilgrims. 
Forty  seigneurs  from  Bremen  and  Lubeck  made  tents  with 
the  sails  of  their  vessels  to  shelter  the  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers  of  their  nation  and  nursed  them  while  ill.  This 
was  the  origin  of  the  famous  order  which  exists  to  the 
present  day  under  the  name  of  the  Teutonic  Order." 

Whoever  has  travelled  in  the  East,  in  Egypt,  or  to 
Constantinople,  has  made  acquaintance  with  the  famous 
Turkish  polichinello,  Caragus.  The  exploits  of  our  Punch 
are  not  to  be  compared  with  his  ;  our  Punch  would  blush, 
cynic  though  he  be,  at  even  the  most  innocent  jests  of  his 
colleague  in  a  turban.  It  was  during  this  siege  —  the  one, 
we  mean,  in  which  Richard  Cœur-de-Lion,  Philip  Augustus, 


PTOLEMAIS.  289 

and  Sala-Eddin  played  so  grand  a  part  —  that  the  ancestor 
of  the  modern  Caragus  first  appeared.     He  was  an  emir. 

Another  historic  date  not  less  interesting  to  verify  is> 
that  of  bills  of  exchange.  Emad-Eddin  tells  of  an  ambas- 
sador from  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad,  who  was  bearer  of  twO' 
cargoes  of  naptha  and  of  reeds,  and  who  brought  with  him 
five  persons  skilled  in  distilling  naptha  and  projecting  it, 
—  naptha  and  Greek  fire  being  the  same  thing.  Moreover, 
this  ambassador  also  brought  a  cedule,  or  draft,  on  the 
merchants  of  Bagdad  for  twenty  thousand  pieces  of  gold. 
So  that  bills  of  exchange  and  drafts  are  not  an  invention 
of  modern  commerce,  inasmuch  as  they  were  current  at 
the  East  in  1191. 

It  was  during  the  two  years  of  this  siege  that  the 
besieged  invented  the  zenbourech,  which  the  popes  after- 
wards forbade  the  Christians  to  use  against  the  Moslems. 
It  was  a  species  of  arrow  about  a  foot  long  and  three  inches 
thick  ;  it  had  four  faces,  a  sharp  iron  point,  and  feathers 
at  the  other  end.  Vinisauf  relates  that  this  terrible  arrow 
driven  by  an  instrument  of  powerful  propulsion  would 
sometimes  go  through  the  bodies  of  two  men  armed  with 
their  cuirasses,  and,  passing  completely  through  them, 
would  bury  itself  in  a  wall  beyond. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  this  siege  that  the  great  quarrel 
arose  between  Richard,  king  of  England,  and  Leopold, 
duke  of  Austria.  Coeur-de-Lion,  who  sometimes  came 
back  from  an  assault  so  stuck  with  arrows  that  he  looked, 
says  his  chronicler,  like  a  pin-cushion,  was  justly  proud 
of  his  courage  and  strength.  Leopold,  very  brave  himself, 
had  run  up  his  flag  on  one  of  the  towers  of  the  town  into 
which  he  and  Richard  had  penetrated  together.  Richard 
might  have  run  up  his  beside  that  of  Leopold,  had  he 
so  chosen;  but  he  preferred  to  pull  down  the  Austrian  flag, 
and  fling  it  into  the  moat.  The  Germans  all  rose  at  this 
and  wanted  to  attack  the  king  of  England  in  his  quarters. 
But  Leopold  withstood  them. 

A  year  later,  Richard,  not  wishing  to  return  to  England 

TOL.    II. — 19 


290  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

through  France,  on  account  of  his  differences  with  Philip 
Augustus,  crossed  Austria  in  disguise.  But  he  was  recog- 
nized, made  prisoner,  and  taken  to  the  castle  of  Durenstein. 
For  two  years  the  world  was  ignorant  of  what  had  become 
of  him.  That  mighty  thunderbolt  of  war  had  passed  like 
a  meteor.  Of  Richard  the  Lion-hearted  there  was  no  longer 
a  trace. 

A  gentleman  of  Arras,  named  Blondel,  determined  to 
find  him,  and  started  on  the  search.  One  day  as  he  sat 
down  to  rest  b}-  the  wall  of  an  old  castle,  he  began  to  sing 
a  song  he  and  Richard  had  composed  together;  for  Richard 
was  a  poet  in  his  idle  moments.  Richard,  hearing  the 
first  couplet  he  and  Blondel  had  composed  together,  was 
sure  his  friend  was  near  and  answered  him  by  singing  the 
second. 

All  the  world  knows  the  rest,  which  has  given  Grétry 
the  opportunity  to  write  his  masterpiece. 

Ptolemais  surrendered  to  the  Christians,  as  we  have 
said,  after  a  siege  of  two  years.  The  garrison  were  given 
their  lives  on  condition  of  restoring  the  true  cross  which 
they  had  captured  at  the  battle  of  Tiberias.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  add  that,  once  at  liberty,  the  Saracens  did 
not  keep  their  word. 

A  hundred  years  later  Ptolemais  was  retaken  from  the 
Christians,  and  after  that  it  never  went  back  to  them. 
This  siege  had  its  chroniclers  and  its  vicissitudes,  which 
agitated  all  Europe,  and  its  own  spirit  of  devotion,  signal- 
ized by  more  than  one  act  of  courage  and  self-abnegation. 
Saint  Anthony  relates  a  startling  legend  about  it. 

"There  was,"  he  says,  "a  celebrated  convent  in  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre,  belonging  to  the  Sisters  of  the  order  of  Saint- 
Claire.  When  the  Saracens  forced  their  way  into  the 
town,  the  abbess  ordered  the  convent  bell  to  be  rung,  which 
assembled  the  whole  community.  Then  addressing  the 
nuns,   she  said:  — 

"'My  very  dear  daughters  and  very  excellent  sisters, 
you  have  promised  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  be  his  spotless 


PTOLEMAIS.  291 

spouses.  We  are  now  in  double  danger,  —  danger  to  our 
lives,  danger  to  our  chastity.  Our  enemies  are  close  upon 
us,  —  enemies  not  only  of  our  bodies  but  of  our  souls. 
After  staining  our  souls,  they  will  destroy  our  bodies  by 
the  sword.  We  cannot  now  escape  them  by  flight,  but  we 
can  preserve  our  souls  by  an  act  that  is  painful,  and  yet 
sure.  It  is  the  beauty  of  women  that  seduces  men.  Let  us 
destroy  that  attraction;  let  us  make  use  of  our  faces  to 
save  our  true  beauty,  to  preserve  our  chastity  intact.  I 
will  set  you  the  example;  let  those  who  wish  to  go  spot- 
less into  the  presence  of  their  immaculate  spouse  imitate 
their  mistress's  example.' 

"Having  said  those  words,  she  cut  off  her  nose  with  a 
knife.  All  the  others  followed  her  example,  and  disfigured 
themselves  bravely  to  appear  in  spotless  beauty  before 
Christ  Jesus.  By  this  means  they  preserved  their  chas- 
tity; for  the  Mussulmans,  seeing  their  bloody  faces,  con- 
ceived a  horror  for  them,  and  only  put  them  to  death." 


292  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


VII. 
THE    SCOUTS. 

During  the  evening  we  have  mentioned,  when  Bona- 
parte collected  his  generals  and  his  staff,  not  for  a  council 
of  war,  not  for  the  arrangements  of  a  battle,  but  as  a 
literary  and  historical  committee,  several  messengers 
arrived  for  the  sheik  of  Ahar,  who  informed  him  that 
an  army  under  orders  of  the  pacha  of  Damascus  was  about 
to  cross  the  Jordan  and  force  Bonaparte  to  raise  the  siege 
of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre. 

This  army,  of  about  twenty-five  thousand  men,  according 
to  the  report  of  the  Arabs  who  always  exaggerated,  was 
bringing  with  it  an  immense  baggage-train  and  proposed 
to  cross  the  Jordan  by  Jacob's  Bridge.  The  emissaries  of 
the  Djezzar  had  spread  themselves  over  the  whole  coast 
region  of  Said  and  had  raised  contingents,  which  now 
joined  those  of  Aleppo  and  Damascus,  —  all  the  more  will- 
ingly because  the  Egyptian  pacha  caused  it  to  be  rumored 
about  that  the  French  were  only  a  handful  of  men  without 
artillery,  and  that  the  pacha  of  Damascus  need  only  show 
himself  and  meet  the  Frenchmen  once  to  exterminate  their 
whole  army. 

At  this  news  Bonaparte  flung  down  the  volume  of 
Plutarch  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  called  Vial,  Junot, 
and  Marat;  sent  Vial  to  the  north  to  take  possession  of 
Sour  (the  ancient  Tyre);  sent  Murat  to  the  northeast  to 
make  sure  of  the  fort  of  Zaphet  ;  and  Junot  to  the  south, 
with  orders  to  seize  Nazareth  and  watch  the  whole  sur 
rounding  country  from  that  village  on  a  height. 

Vial  crossed  the  mountains  of  Cape  Blanc,  and  came  in 
eight  of  Sour  on  the  3d  of  April.     From  the  heights  above 


THE   SCOUTS.  293 

the  town,  the  French  general  could  see  the  frightened 
inhabitants  escaping  from  their  houses  in  terror.  He 
entered  the  place  without  a  fight,  promised  the  inhabitants 
peace  and  protection,  reassured  them  completely,  and  per- 
suaded those  who  remained  in  the  town  to  bring  back  the 
others  who  had  fled.  At  the  end  of  two  days  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  them  all  back  in  their  own  homes. 
He  then  left  a  garrison  of  two  hundred  men  behind  him 
and  returned  to  Saint-Jean-d'Acre. 

Murat  had  been  as  fortunate  as  Vial,  He  had  gone  as 
far  as  the  fort  of  Zaphet,  from  which  two  or  three  cannon- 
balls  had  hunted  half  the  garrison.  The  other  half,  who 
were  Maugrabins,  offered  to  take  service  under  Murat. 
From  there  he  had  marched  to  the  Jordan,  and  examined 
its  right  bank,  and  cast  a  look  at  the  Lake  of  Tiberias. 
Leaving  a  French  garrison  in  the  fort,  which  was  well 
provisioned,  he  returned  to  Saint-Jean-d'Acre  on  the  6th 
of  April,  bringing  with  him  his  Maugrabins. 

Junot  had  taken  possession  of  Nazareth,  the  birthplace 
of  our  Saviour;  and  there  he  had  camped,  partly  in  the 
village,  partly  out  of  it,  waiting  fresh  orders  from  Bona- 
parte, who  had  told  him  not  to  come  back  till  he  was 
recalled. 

In  vain  did  Murat  reassure  the  commander-in-chief  as 
to  the  approach  of  an  enemy.  Bonaparte  was  filled  with 
his  own  presentiments,  supported  by  the  assurances  of  the 
sheik  of  Ahar,  as  to  the  existence  of  the  invisible  army 
said  to  be  marching  toward  him.  He  therefore  accepted 
the  sheik's  proposal  that  he  should  be  sent  as  scout  along 
the  Lake  of  Tiberias.  Roland,  who  was  weary  of  camp 
life,  asked  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  the  sheik  in  his 
exploration;  and  the  favor  was  granted  to  him, 

.That  evening  they  started,  profiting  by  the  coolness  and 
darkness  of  the  night  to  ride  as  far  as  the  plains  of 
Esdrelon,  which  offered  them,  in  case  of  need,  a  double 
refuge,  —  on  the  right  into  the  mountains  of  Naplous,  on 
the  left  to  those  of  Nazareth. 


294  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

**  On  the  7th  of  April,  1799,  the  promontory  on  which  is 
built  the  town  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre,  the  ancient  Ptolemais, 
seemed  to  be  as  much  enveloped  by  thunder  and  lightning 
as  was  Mount  Sinai  on  the  day  when,  from  the  burning 
bush,  the  Lord  God  gave  the  Law  to  Moses.  Whence  came 
that  thunder  which  shook  the  coasts  of  Syria  like  an  earth- 
quake? Whence  that  smoke  which  covered  the  Gulf  of 
Carmel  with  a  cloud  as  thick  as  if  the  mountain  of  Elias 
had  changed  into  a  volcano?  " 

Thus  did  we  begin  the  first  chapter  of  this  episode. 
The  succeeding  chapters  have  so  far  only  explained  what 
preceded  this  campaign  in  Syria,  —  the  eighth,  and  probably 
the  last,  Crusade. 

Bonaparte  was  attempting  his  second  assault.  He  had 
waited  for  the  return  of  Vial  and  Murat  to  try  fortune 
once  more.  He  was  in  the  trenches,  not  three  hundred 
feet  from  the  ramparts.  Beside  him  was  General  Caffarelli, 
with  whom  he  was  conversing.  Caffarelli  had  a  hand  on 
his  hip  to  keep  his  balance,  which  was  sometimes  difficult 
with  his  wooden  leg.  The  corner  of  his  elbow  projected 
beyond  the  trench. 

The  point  of  Bonaparte's  cocked  hat  was  exposed,  and  a 
ball  from  the  enemy  knocked  the  hat  off  his  head.  He 
stooped  to  pick  it  up,  and  as  he  did  so  he  noticed 
Caffarelli's  attitude. 

"General,"  he  said,  ''we  have  to  do  with  Arnaouts  and 
Albanians,  all  excellent  shots;  my  hat  is  a  proof  of  it. 
Take  care  they  don't  take  off  your  arm  as  they  have  my 
hat." 

Caffarelli  made  a  contemptuous  gesture.  He  who  had 
left  a  leg  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  did  not  seem  to  care 
what  part  of  him  remained  on  the  banks  of  the  Kerdaneah. 
He  did  not  move.  A  minute  later  Bonaparte  saw  hifu 
quiver;  he  turned,  and  his  arm  was  seen  to  hang  helpless 
at  his  side. 

At  the  same  instant  Bonaparte  raised  his  eyes,  and  saw 
Oroisier  about  thirty  feet  from  him,  standing  upright  on 


THE   SCOUTS.  295 

the  edge  of  the  trench.  It  was  useless  bravado;  and 
Bonaparte  called  out  :  — 

"Come  down,  Croisier!  you  have  no  business  there; 
come  down,  I  say." 

"Did  not  you  tell  me,  out  loud  one  day,  that  I  was  a 
coward?"  said  the  young  man. 

"I  was  Avrong,"  replied  the  general;  "you  have  proved 
to  me  I  was  mistaken.     Come  down!" 

Croisier  made  a  movement  to  obey,  but  he  did  not  come 
down;  he  fell.     A  ball  had  struck  him  in  the  thigh. 

"Larrey!  Larrey!"  cried  Bonaparte,  stamping  his  foot 
impatiently.     "Here,  come  here!     There 's  work  for  you." 

Larrey  came  up.  Croisier  was  laid  upon. muskets  and 
carried  to  the  rear.  As  for  Caffarelli,  the  surgeon-in-chief 
gave  him  an  arm,  and  he  walked  away. 

Let  us  leave  the  assault,  begun  under  such  sad  circum- 
stances, to  follow  its  course,  and  cast  our  eyes  toward  the 
beautiful  plain  of  Esdrelon,  covered  with  flowers,  and 
toward  the  river  Kishon,  the  course  of  which  is  marked 
out  by  a  long  line  of  oleanders. 

On  the  banks  of  this  river  two  horsemen  were  carelessly 
making  their  way.  One  was  dressed  in  the  green  uniform 
of  a  chasseur,  a  sabre  at  his  side,  and  a  three-cornered  hat 
on  his  head.  He  was  whisking  a  perfumed  handkerchief 
in  his  hand  to  make  air,  as  he  would  with  a  fan.  The  tri- 
color cockade  in  his  hat  proved  that  he  belonged  to  the 
French  army. 

His  companion  wore  a  red  fez  fastened  round  his  head 
with  a  cord  of  camel's  hair;  a  loose  headgear  of  dazzling 
colors  was  worn  over  it,  and  hung  from  his  head  upon  his 
shoulders.  A  large  burnous  of  white  cashmere  completely 
enveloped  his  person;  but  when  it  opened  it  showed  a  rich 
oriental  caftan  of  green  velvet  embroidered  with  gold.  He 
wore  as  a  belt  a  scarf  of  many  colors,  blending  in  one  har- 
monious whole,  with  that  marvellous  taste  nowhere  seen 
but  in  Eastern  stuffs.  Slipped  through  this  belt  were  two 
pistols  with  silver-gilt   handles  exquisitely  chased.     The 


^96  THE   FIRST    EEPUBLIC. 

sabre  alone  was  of  French  manufacture.  The  rider  wore 
wide  trousers  of  red  satin,  the  ends  of  which  were  lost  in 
boots  with  green  velvet  tops  embroidered  like  the  caftan. 
In  his  hand  he  carried  a  long  and  slender  lance,  light  as  a 
reed,  solid  as  an  iron  twig,  and  ornamented  at  its  tip  with 
a  bunch  of  ostrich  feathers. 

The  two  young  men  stopped  at  a  bend  in  the  river,  in 
the  shadow  of  a  little  group  of  palm-trees;  and  there, 
laughing  merrily,  as  became  two  good  companions  travel- 
ling together,  they  prepared  their  breakfast,  consisting 
of  a  few  bits  of  biscuit,  which  the  Frenchman  drew 
from  his  holsters  and  dipped  for  an  instant  in  the  river. 
As  for  the  Arab,  he  looked  about  him  and  above  him; 
then,  without  saying  a  word,  he  attacked  with  his  sabre 
one  of  the  palm-trees,  whose  soft  and  porous  wood  yielded 
rapidly  to  the  keen  blade. 

"This  is  a  fine  sabre  the  general-in-chief  has  given  me," 
said  its  owner.  "  I  hope  to  try  it  soon  on  something  else 
than  a  palm-tree." 

"It  ought  to  be  good,"  said  the  Frenchman,  crunching 
the  biscuit  with  his  teeth.  "  It  came  from  the  manufactory 
at  Versailles.  But  is  it  only  to  try  its  strength  that  you 
are  murdering  that  poor  tree?  " 

"  Look  !  "  said  the  Arab,  pointing  upward. 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  Frenchman  ;  "  it  is  a  date-tree,  and  our 
breakfast  will  be  better  than  I  thought." 

At  that  moment  the  tree  fell  noisily,  putting  within 
Teach  of  the  young  men  two  or  three  magnificent  clusters  of 
dates  that  were  fully  ripe.  They  attacked  this  manna  that 
the  Lord  had  sent  them  with  the  appetite  of  their  twenty- 
five  years.  While  they  were  thus  engaged,  the  Arab's  horse 
began  to  neigh  in  a  peculiar  manner.  His  master  made  an 
exclamation,  and  sprang  out  of  the  copse,  looking  in  every 
direction  over  the  plain  of  Esdrelon,  on  which  they  were. 

"What  is  it?  "  asked  the  Frenchman,  carelessly. 

"One  of  ours,"  said  the  other,  "mounted  on  a  mare;  we 
shall  probably  get  the  news  we  have  come  in  search  of." 


THE  SCOUTS.  297 

He  came  back  and  sat  down  by  his  companion,  paying 
no  attention  to  his  horse,  which  galloped  away  in  search 
of  the  mare  his  nostrils  had  scented. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  gallop  of  two  horses  was  heard, 
and  a  Druse,  who  had  recognized  his  sheik's  horse,  drew 
up  at  the  thicket  of  palm-trees,  where  the  presence  of  a 
second  horse  showed  him  there  was  an  encampment,  or  at 
least  a  halt. 

"Azib!  "  cried  the  Arab  leader. 

The  Druse  sprang  from  his  horse,  threw  the  bridle  on 
its  neck,  and  walked  toward  the  sheik,  crossing  his  hands 
on  his  breast,  and  bowing  profoundly.  His  chief  exchanged 
a  few  words  with  him  in  Arabic,  and  then,  turning  to  his 
companion,  lie  said  in  French  :  — 

"  I  was  not  mistaken  ;  the  advanced  guard  of  the  pacha 
of  Damascus  has  just  crossed  Jacob's  Bridge." 

"That 's  what  we  are  going  to  find  out,"  replied  Roland, 
whom  our  readers  have  no  doubt  recognized. 

"Useless,"  said  the  sheik  of  Ahar.  "Azib  has  seen 
them." 

"It  may  be  so,"  said  Roland;  "but  perhaps  Azib  saw 
wrong.  I  shall  be  much  more  sure  of  it  when  I  have  seen 
for  myself.  That  great  mountain  which  looks  like  a  patty 
must  be  Mount  Tabor.  The  Jordan,  consequently,  is 
behind  it.  We  are  only  a  few  miles  from  the  base.  Let 
us  mount  it  and  see  for  ourselves  what  there  is  to  be 
seen." 

Then  without  troubling  himself  to  ascertain  whether 
the  sheik  followed  him  or  not,  Roland  sprang  on  his  horse, 
refreshed  by  the  halt  he  had  made,  and  started  at  full 
gallop  toward  Mount  Tabor. 

A  minute  later  he  heard  the  sheik  and  Azib  galloping 
behind  him. 


298  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


VIII. 

THE    BEAUTIFUL   DAUGHTERS    OF    NAZARETH. 

Roland  rode  about  three  miles  across  that  splendid 
plain  of  Esdrelon,  the  broadest  and  most  celebrated  in  all 
Palestine,  after  that  of  the  Jordan.  In  ancient  days  it 
was  called  the  paradise,  and  the  granary  of  Syria,  the 
plain  of  Jezrael,  the  fields  of  Esdrelon,  the  plain  of 
Magiddo  ;  under  all  of  which  names  it  is  celebrated  in  the 
Bible.  It  saw  the  defeat  of  the  Midianites  and  the 
Amalekites  by  Gideon.  It  beheld  Saul  camping  beside 
the  fountain  of  Jezrael  to  fight  the  Philistines  assembled 
at  Aphik.  It  beheld  him,  vanquished,  throw  himself  upon 
his  sword  and  perish,  he  and  his  three  sons  with  him.  It 
was  on  this  plain  that  poor  Naboth  had  his  vineyard  near 
to  the  palace  of  Ahab,  and  here  that  the  wicked  Jezebel 
had  him  stoned  as  a  blasphemer,  that  she  might  seize  his 
heritage.  It  was  here  that  Joram's  heart  was  pierced  by 
an  arrow  from  the  bow  of  Jehu;  and  it  is  near  the  very 
spot  where  our  young  men  have  just  been  breakfasting 
that  Jezebel  was  flung  from  a  window  by  order  of  Jehu, 
and  her  body  devoured  by  dogs. 

In  the  Middle  Ages  this  plain,  the  witness  of  so  many 
historical  events,  was  called  the  plain  of  Sabas.  To-day 
it  is  called  Merdj  ibn  Amer,  —  that  is  to  say,  the  Pasturage 
of  the  Sons  of  Amer.  It  stretches  to  a  width  of  fifteen 
miles  between  the  mountains  of  Gilboa  and  those  of 
Nazareth.  At  its  extremity  rises  Mount  Tabor,  toward 
which  the  three  horseman  were  now  galloping,  without  a 
thought  of  these  great  events  on  the  celebrated  soil  their 
horses'  hoofs  Avere  trs-mpling. 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   DAUGHTEKS   OF   NAZARETH.  299 

Mount  Tabor  is  accessible  on  all  sides,  and  especially 
from  that  of  Fouli,  by  wliich  they  were  now  approacliiug 
it. 

They  were  obliged  to  climb  to  its  summit  (an  easy  task 
to  Arabian  horses)  before  their  eyes  could  see  above  the 
tops  of  two  foothills,  which  masked  their  view  of  the 
Jordan  and  Lake  Tiberias.  But  the  higher  they  went  up, 
the  clearer  the  horizon  grew.  Soon  they  perceived  an 
immense  azui:e  sheet  bordered  on  the  one  hand  by  golden 
sands,  and  on  the  other  by  low  hills  clothed  with  a  wild 
vegetation.  This  was  the  Lake  Tiberias,  joined  to  the 
Dead  Sea  by  the  Jordan,  which  stretched  along  the  plain 
like  a  yellow  ribbon  glittering  in  the  sunlight.  They  now 
beheld  the  whole  army  of  the  pacha  of  Damascus,  which 
was  following  the  eastern  bank  of  the  lake  and  crossing  the 
river  Jordan  at  Jacob's  Bridge,  The  advanced  guard  had 
already  disappeared  between  the  lake  and  the  mountains  of 
Tiberias. 

It  was  impossible  for  the  young  man  to  estimate,  even 
approxiniatively,  the  number  of  this  multitude.  The 
horsemen  alone,  marching  in  the  fantastic  manner  of 
Orientals,  covered  many  miles  of  ground.  Though  at  a 
distance  of  at  least  twelve  miles,  they  could  see  the  glitter 
of  the  weapons  through  the  dust  raised  by  the  feet  of  the 
horses. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  There  was 
no  time  to  lose;  the  sheik  of  Ahar  and  Azib,  by  halting 
their  horses  for  an  hour  or  two  near  the  river  Kishon, 
could  reach  the  French  army  by  daybreak  and  warn  Bona- 
parte. As  for  Roland,  he  resolved  to  go  to  Nazareth  and 
put  Junot  on  his  guard,  —  all  the  more  because  he  saw  a 
chance  of  fighting  with  more  freedom  of  action  than  when 
restrained  by  Bonaparte. 

The  three  men  rapidly  descended  Mount  Tabor.  At 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  they  separated,  the  two  Arabs 
continuing  along  the  whole  length  of  the  plain  of  Esdrelon, 
and  Roland  riding  in  a  straight  line  to  Nazareth,  the  white 


300  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

houses  of  which  nestling  like  a  flock  of  doves  amid  the 
dark  verdure  of  the  mountain,  he  had  seen  from  Mount 
Tabor. 

Whoever  has  visited  Nazareth  knows  by  what  abomina- 
ble roads  it  is  reached.  Sometimes  to  right,  sometimes  to 
left,  the  way  is  bordered  by  precipices  ;  and  the  charming 
flowers  which  bloom  wherever  a  trifle  of  soil  allows  their 
roots  to  live,  embellish  the  road  but  do  not  make  it  less 
dangerous.  Here  are  white  lilies,  yellow  jonquils,  blue 
crocuses,  and  roses  of  a  freshness  and  sweetness  of  which  we 
can  form  no  idea  without  experience.  "Nezer,"  which  is 
the  original  of  "Nazareth,"  means  in  the  Hebrew  "flower." 

Roland  saw  and  lost  and  saw  again  the  little  town  of 
Nazareth  three  or  four  times  before  he  reached  it.  At  ten 
minutes'  distance  from  the  first  houses,  he  met  an  out- 
post of  the  grenadiers  of  the  19th  brigade.  He  made 
himself  known  to  them  and  asked  whether  he  should  find 
the  general  in  the  town  or  the  neighborhood.  They  told 
him  the  general  was  in  Nazareth  and  had  visited  his  out- 
posts not  twenty  minutes  earlier. 

Roland  was  forced  to  put  his  horse  at  a  walk.  The 
noble  beast  had  just  done  nearly  sixty  miles  without  other 
rest  than  that  of  an  hour  for  breakfast;  but  his  master  was 
now  sure  of  finding  the  general  and  would  not  press  him 
further.  When  he  reached  the  first  hoiises  Roland  found 
a  guard  of  dragoons,  commanded  by  a  friend  of  his, 
Desnoyers.  He  gave  his  horse  to  an  orderly  and  asked  to 
be  told  where  he  should  find  General  Junot.  It  was  then 
half-past  five  o'clock. 

Desnoyers  looked  at  the  sun,  which  was  just  beginning 
to  sink  behind  the  mountains  of  Naplous,  and  answered, 
laughing:  — 

"It  is  just  the  time  of  day  when  the  women  of  Nazareth 
go  to  draw  water.  General  Junot  will  be  found  near  the 
wells." 

Roland  shrugged  his  shoulders.  No  doubt  he  thought 
that  the  proper  place  for  a  general  was  in  reviewing  some* 


THE    BEAUTIFUL    DAUGHTERS    OF   NAZARETH.  301 

thing  else  tluui  tlie  handsome  daughters  of  Nazareth. 
However,  he  followed  the  directions  given  him,  and  was 
soon  at  the  other  end  of  the  village. 

The  wells  were  about  ten  minutes'  walk  from  the  last 
houses  at  that  end.  The  road  that  leads  to  them  is  bor- 
dered on  each  side  by  huge  cacti  which  form  an  impene- 
trable wall.  About  two  hundred  feet  from  the  fountain, 
and  following  with  his  eyes  the  women  who  came  and 
went  there,  Avas  Junot,  attended  by  two  aides-de-camp. 
Junot  recognized  Bonaparte's  staff  officer  at  once.  Every 
one  knew  the  affection  the  commander-in-chief  felt  for  the 
young  man,  and  that  was  a  sufficient  reason  why  all  should 
treat  him  cordially.  But  his  courteous  familiarity  and 
his  proverbial  courage  would  have  made  him  friends  even 
without  the  good-will  of  the  commander. 

Junot  came  up  to  him  with  outstretched  hand.  Roland, 
rigid  observer  of  the  proprieties,  saluted  as  an  inferior; 
for  he  always  guarded  against  allowing  it  to  be  thought 
that  he  attributed  the  general's  kindness  to  his  own 
merits. 

"Do  you  bring  us  good  news,  my  dear  Eoland?"  asked 
Junot. 

"Yes,  general,"  answered  Roland;  "inasmuch  as  I  have 
come  to  tell  you  that  the  enemy  is  close  by." 

"Faith!"  said  Junot,  laughing,  "next  to  the  sight  of 
these  handsome  girls  bearing  their  pitchers  like  the  prin- 
cess Nausicaa,  I  don't  know  anything  so  agreeable  as  a 
sight  of  the  enemy.  Just  look,  Roland;  what  a  superb 
air  those  hussies  have  !  Would  n't  you  take  them  for  the 
goddesses  of  antiquity?     "Well,  how  about  the  enemy?  " 

"You  can  meet  him  when  you  like,  general;  he  's  only 
about  fifteen  miles  from  here." 

"What  do  you  think  they  'II  say  to  you  if  you  tell  them 
they  are  handsome?  —  'The  Virgin  Mary  wills  it.'  This 
is  the  first  time  since  we  entered  Syria  that  I  have  seen 
any  pretty  women.  So  you  've  seen  the  enemy,  have 
you?  " 


302  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"With  my  own  eyes,,  general." 

"Which  way  is  he  coming?  Where  is  he  going?  What 
does  he  want  of  us?" 

"  He  is  coming  from  Damascus  ;  he  wants  to  fight  us,  I 
think;  he  is  going  to  Saint-Jean-d'Acre,  if  I'm  not  mis- 
taken, to  raise  the  siege." 

"Is  that  all?  Then  we  '11  cut  him  off.  Will  you  stay 
with  me,  or  go  back  to  Bonaparte?" 

"I  '11  stay  with  you,  general.  I've  a  monstrous  desire 
to  come  to  close  quarters  with  those  fellows.  It  is  fear- 
fully dull  at  the  siege.  Except  for  two  or  three  sorties 
that  Djezzar  pacha  was  foolish  enough  to  make,  there  has 
not  been  a  bit  of  amusement." 

"Well,"  said  Junot,  "we'll  have  some  to-morrow,  I 
promise  you.  By  the  bye,  I  forgot  to  ask  how  many  of 
them   there  are." 

"Ah,  my  dear  general,  I  '11  answer  you  like  an  Arab. 
*As  well  count  the  sands  of  the  sea.'  They  must  be 
twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand  strong." 

Junot  scratched  his  forehead. 

"The  devil!"  he  said;  "we  can't  do  much  with  the 
handful  of  men  I  have  here." 

"How  many  have  j'ou?  "  asked  Roland. 

"Just  one  hundred  more  than  the  three  hundred  Spar- 
tans. But,  after  all,  we  can  do  as  much  as  they  did,  and 
that 's  not  so  bad.  Well,  there  's  time  enough  to  think 
about  that  to-morrow.  Do  you  want  to  see  the  sights  of 
the  town,  or  will  you  have  some  supper?  " 

"Well,"  said  Roland,  "I  suppose  there  are  plenty  of 
legends  here  in  Nazareth;  but,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  gen- 
eral, my  stomach  is  more  importunate  than  my  eyes.  I 
breakfasted  this  morning  by  the  Kishon  on  a  sea-biscuit 
and  a  dozen  dates,  and  I  must  say,  I  'm  both  hungry  and 
thirsty." 

"  Give  me  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at  supper,  and 
we  '11  try  to  still  your  appetite."  Then,  addressing  a 
young  girl  who  passed  them,  he  said  in  Arabic:  — 


THE   BEAUTIFUL   DAUGHTERS   OF   NAZARETH.  303 

"Water, — thy  brother  is  thirsty,"  and  he  signed  to 
Roland. 

The  girl  drew  near,  tall  and  majestic,  and  swathed  in 
her  tunic  with  its  long,  falling  sleeves,  which  left  the 
arms  bare.  Bending  the  pitcher,  which  she  carried  on  her 
right  shoulder,  to  the  level  of  her  left  wrist,  she  offered 
the  water  it  contained  to  Roland,  with  a  gesture  full  of 
grace. 

Roland  drank  deep,  not  because  the  girl  was  handsome, 
but  because  the  water  was  cool  and  refreshing. 

"Has  my  brother  drunk  liis  fill?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"Yes,"  said  Roland  in  the  same  language;  "and  thy 
brother  thanks  thee." 

The  young  girl  bowed  her  head,  replaced  the  pitcher  on 
her  shoulder,  and  went  her  way  toward  the  village. 

"Why  !  you  speak  Arabic  flueutly,"  said  Junot, 
laughing. 

"  Was  n't  I  a  whole  month  a  prisoner  and  wounded 
among  those  brigands,  at  the  time  of  the  iusurrection  at 
Cairo?"  said  Roland.  "I  had  to  learn  Arabic,  — to  my 
own  injury,  though  ;  for  ever  since  the  general  found  out 
that  I  can  splutter  the  prophet's  language,  he  has  a  mania 
for  sending  after  me  on  all  occasions  to  interpret  for  him. 
Come,  let  us  go  to  supper,  general." 

And  Roland  took  the  road  to  the  village  without  so 
much  as  casting  a  last  glance  at  the  beautiful  daughters  of 
Nazareth,  whom  General  Junot  and  his  aides  stopped  at 
every  turn  to  admire. 


304  THE   FIKST   REPUBLIC. 


IX. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    NAZARETH. 

The  next  morning  at  daybreak, — that  is,  at  six  o'clock, 
—  drums  and  trumpets  were  beating  and  sounding  the 
reveille.  As  Roland  had  assured  Junot  that  the  advanced 
guard  of  the  Damascans  was  advancing  toward  Tiberias, 
Junot,  anxious  not  to  give  them  time  to  fasten  on  his 
mountain,  passed  over  the  notch  in  the  heights  above 
Nazareth  and  went  down  through  the  valley  as  far  as  Cana, 
which  he  did  not  see  till  he  was  close  upon  it,  a  spur  of 
the  mountain  completely  hiding  it. 

The  enemy,  he  judged,  must  then  be  in  the  valley  of 
Batouf,  the  one  which  extends  to  the  foot  of  Mount  Tabor. 
In  any  case,  descending  as  he  did  from  the  high  places, 
as  Scripture  calls  them,  he  ran  no  danger  of  being  sur- 
prised; on  the  contrary,  he  was  more  likely  to  be  seen 
from  afar. 

The  soldiers  knew  more  about  the  miracle  done  by 
Jesus  Christ  in  Cana  than  about  his  other  miracles;  and 
of  all  the  places  sanctified  by  his  presence  Cana  was  the 
one  that  was  chiefly  in  their  memory.  It  was  at  a  wed- 
ding in  Cana  that  Jesus  changed  the  water  into  wine;  and 
though  our  soldiers  were  glad  enough  on  the  days  when 
they  were  able  to  get  water,  it  is  certain  they  would  have 
been  gladder  still  if  the  water  could  have  been  turned  into 
wine. 

It  was  at  Cana,  too,  that  Jesus  did  another  miracle 
related  by  Saint  John  :  — 

"  There  was  a  nobleman  of  the  court  whose  son  was  sick 
at    Capernaum.      Hearing    that    Jesus    had    come    into 


THE  BATTLE  OF  NAZARETH.  305 

Galilee,  lie  went  to  hira  and  begged  liim  to  come  down  to 
Cana  and  cure  liis  son  who  was  at  the  point  of  death. 

"Jesus  said  to  him:   '  Go  home,  your  son  is  cured.' 

"The  man  believed  the  words  that  Jesus  had  said  to  him 
and  he  went  home.  When  he  came  within  sight  of  his 
own  house  his  servants  met  him  and  told  him  his  son  was 
cured." 

When  Junot  reached  the  first  houses  of  the  village  of 
Cana,  the  Sheik  El  Beled  came  out  to  meet  him  and 
advised  him  not  to  go  farther  ;  for  the  enemy,  he  said,  was 
in  the  plain,  to  the  number  of  two  or  three  thousand 
horsemen. 

Junot  had  one  hundred  and  fifty  grenadiers  of  the  19th 
of  the  line,  one  hundred  and  fifty  carbineers  of  2d  light 
infantry,  and  about  a  hundred  horse  commanded  by  Major 
Duvivier,  belonging  to  the  14th  dragoons.  This  made 
exactly  four  hundred  men,  as  he  had  said  the  night 
before. 

He  thanked  the  Sheik  El  Beled,  and,  to  the  great  ad- 
miration of  the  latter,  he  continued  on  his  way.  When 
he  reached  a  branch  of  the  little  river  which  takes  its  rise 
near  Cana,  he  skirted  its  banks  upward  to  its  source.  On 
entering  the  defile  which  separates  Loubi  from  the  moun- 
tains of  Cana  he  saw,  sure  enough,  between  two  and  three 
thousand  horsemen  divided  into  several  parties  advancing 
between  Mount  Tabor  and  Loubi. 

To  judge  better  of  their  positions  he  put  his  horse  to  a 
gallop  and  reached  the  ruins  of  a  village  which  crowned 
the  height,  called  by  the  country -people,  Meschinah.  At 
the  same  instant  he  saw  a  second  corps  marching  on  the 
village  of  Loubi.  This  body  was  composed  of  Mameluks, 
Turcomans,  and  ]\[augrabins,  and  was  fully  as  strong  in 
numbers  as  the  other  body  ;  so  that  Junot,  with  four  hun- 
dred men  at  his  command,  had  as  many  as  five  thousand  to 
deal  with. 

This  last  body  was  marching  in  a  compact  mass  at 
short  step  and  good  order,  contrary  to  the  custom  of  Orien- 

TOL.    II.  —  20 


306  THE   FIPvST   REPUBLIC. 

tals.  An  immense  number  of  flags,  banners,  and  horses' 
t  ;ils  were  visible  in  its  ranks.  These  horses'  tails,  which 
servr-d  as  ensigns  to  the  pachas,  had  been  an  object  of 
1  uighter  to  the  Frenchmen,  until  they  came  to  know  the 
origin  of  this  singular  banner.  They  were  told  that  at 
the  battle  of  Xicopolis,  Bajiizet,  beholding  his  own  flag 
seized  by  the  Crusaders,  cut  off  the  tail  of  his  horse  with 
a  blow  of  his  sabre,  fastened  it  to  a  lance,  and  not  only 
rallied  his  men  around  this  novel  standard,  but  actually 
won  that  famous  battle,  one  of  the  most  disastrous  for 
Christendom. 

Junot  judged  rightly  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear  except 
from  the  troop  which  was  marching  in  good  order.  He 
sent  fifty  of  his  grenadiers  to  hold  in  check  the  horsemen 
he  had  first  seen,  whom  he  knew  to  be  Bedouins,  and 
whose  part  it  always  was  to  hover  on  the  outskirts  of  a 
fight,  and  harass  the  French  troops.  But  to  the  regular 
body  marching  compactly,  he  opposed  the  remaining  hun- 
dred grenadiers,  and  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  carbineers, 
reserving  under  his  own  hand  the  hundred  dragoons  to  hurl 
them  wherever  there  might  seem  necessity. 

The  Turks,  seeing  this  handful  of  men  halting  and 
apparently  awaiting  them,  supposed  they  were  motionless 
from  fear.  They  advanced  within  pistol  range;  but  then 
carbineers  and  grenadiers,  each  selecting  his  man,  fired, 
and  the  whole  front  rank  of  the  Turks  fell,  while  many 
bullets,  passing  beyond  them  deep  into  the  ranks,  brought 
down  men  and  horses  in  the  third  and  even  fourth  lines. 

This  volley  tlirew  the  Mussulmans  into  great  disorder, 
and  gave  time  to  the  carbineers  and  grenadiers  to  reload. 
But  this  time  they  only  fired  from  their  first  rank,  those 
of  the  second  rank  passing  forward  their  reloaded  muskets 
and  those  of  tho  front  passing  back  their  discharged  ones. 

These  continuous  volleys  made  the  Turks  hesitate;  then, 
remembering  their  own  numbers,  and  seeing  how  few  there 
were  of  their  enemy,  they  charged  with  loud  cries. 

This  was  the  moment  for  which   Roland  was  waiting. 


THE   BATTLE   OF   NAZARETH.  307 

While  Junot  was  directing  his  two  hundred  and  fifty  men 
to  form  in  square,  Roland,  at  the  head  of  the  hundred 
dragoons,  flashed  down  upon  the  Turks,  who  were  charg- 
ing in  disorder,  and  took  them  in  flank.  The  Turks  were 
not  accustomed  to  the  straight  sabres,  which  stabbed  them 
like  lances  at  a  distance  to  which  their  curved  blades  could 
not  reach.  The  effect  of  this  charge  was  horrible;  the 
dragoons  rode  through  the  whole  Mussulman  body,  ap- 
peared on  the  other  side,  gave  time  to  the  infantry  square 
to  fire  its  volley,  then  dashed  down  the  lane  that  the  balls 
had  made,  and  pointing  their  weapons  at  all  before  them, 
enlarged  the  rift  so  much  that  the  whole  body  of  the  enemy 
seemed  to  explode  and  the  Turkish  horsemen,  instead  of 
rallying  together,  began  to  scatter  over  the  plain. 

Eoland  had  fastened  upon  the  standard-bearer  of  the 
principal  chieftains.  His  sabre  being  that  of  the  chasseurs, 
with  a  curved  blade,  and  not  the  straight  and  pointed 
weapon  of  the  dragoons,  he  was  on  an  equal  footing  with 
his  adversary.  Two  or  three  times  he  dropped  the  reins 
on  his  horse's  neck,  guiding  him  with  his  knees,  and  put- 
ting his  left  hand  into  the  holsters  for  a  pistol  ;  but  the 
thought  that  it  was  unworth}'-  of  him  to  use  such  means 
arrested  him  in  the  act.  Then  he  rushed  his  horse  on 
that  of  his  enemy,  seized  the  man  by  the  body,  and  a  furi- 
ous struggle  ensued,  while  the  horses,  understanding  that 
they  too  were  enemies,  bit  and  tore  each  other  as  best 
they  could.  For  a  moment  those  who  surrounded  the  two 
combatants  stopped  and  looked  on  as  though  they  would 
fain  see  the  end  of  such  a  struggle.  But  Roland,  letting 
go  his  stirrups,  spurred  his  horse  vigorously  so  that  the 
animal  glided,  as  it  were,  from  between  his  legs.  Then 
his  own  weight  dragged  down  the  Turkish  horseman,  who 
fell  head-foremost  to  the  ground,  hanging  to  his  stirrup. 
In  a  second  Roland  rose,  his  bloody  sabre  in  one  hand,  and 
the  Turkish  standard  in  the  other.  As  for  the  Mussul- 
man, he  was  dead,  and  his  horse,  pricked  by  Roland's 
sabre,  dragged  the  body  into  the  ranks  of  his  companions, 
adding  to  the  disorder. 


308  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Meanwhile  the  Bedouins  of  the  plain  of  Mount  Tabor 
were  rushing  forward  at  the  sound  of  the  musketry.  Two 
chiefs,  superbly  mounted,  preceded  their  troop  by  several 
hundred  paces.  Juuot  spraug  forward  to  meet  them, 
ordering  his  soldiers  to  leave  those  men  to  him. 

At  a  hundred  paces  in  front  of  the  fifty  grenadiers  whom 
he  had  stationed,  almost  in  derision,  to  hold  the  Bedouins  in 
check,  he  stopped,  being  then  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
two  horsemen  he  was  charging,  let  his  sabre  hang  by  the 
sword-knot,  took  a  pistol  from  the  holsters,  and  seeing, 
between  the  two  ears  of  the  horse  of  one  who  was  coming 
toward  him  at  full  speed,  the  flaming  eyes  of  his  enemy, 
he  put  a  ball  (we  have  already  mentioned  Junot's  accuracy 
with  this  weapon)  through  the  middle  of  his  forehead. 
The  rider  fell  ;  the  horse,  continuing  its  headlong  course, 
was  caught  by  one  of  the  fifty  grenadiers,  while  Junot, 
replacing  the  pistol  in  its  holster,  seized  his  sabre  and 
cleft  with  one  straight  blow  the  skull  of  his  other 
adversary. 

Then  every  officer,  electrified  by  the  example  of  his 
general,  left  the  ranks.  Ten  or  twelve  strange  hand-to- 
hand  combats,  like  that  we  have  just  described,  began 
before  the  eyes  of  the  whole  army,  who  clapped  their 
hands.     In  all  of  thom,  the  Turks  were  vanquished. 

The  battle  lasted  from  half-])ast  nine  in  the  morning  till 
three  in  the  afternoon,  and  then  Junot  ordered  a  retreat, 
step  by  step,  into  the  mountains  above  Cana.  In  descend- 
ing from  them  that  morning,  he  had  noticed  a  large  tract 
of  table-land  which  seemed  to  him  favorable  for  his  pur- 
pose; for  he  knew  very  well  that  with  four  hundred  men 
he  might  make  a  brilliant  fight,  but  he  could  not  conquer 
the  enemy.  The  fight  was  fought;  four  hundred  French- 
men had  held  their  ground  for  five  hours  against  five 
thousand  Turks.  They  had  killed  eight  hundred  and 
wounded  three  hundred,  with  a  loss  of  five  men  killed  on 
our  side  and  one  wounded. 

Junot  ordered  the  wounded  man  to  be  carried  on  a  litter 
by  four  of  his  comrades,  relaying  one  another. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  NAZAKETH.  309 


Rolaud  had  remounted  his  horse.  He  changed  his  curved 
sabre  for  a  straight  one,  and  his  pistols  were  agam  m  his 
holsters  Then  he  put  himself,  together  with  two  of 
Junot's  aides,  at  the  head  of  the  hundred  dragoons  which 
formed  the  general's  cavalry,  and  the  three  young  men 
end^d  their  day  with  many  picturesque  adventures,  which 
long  contributed  to  swell  the  heroic  anecdotes  and  joyous 
tales  that  were  current  among  the  bivouacs  of  the  Army  of 

the  East.  i  ■     ^  u^ 

By  four  o'clock  Junot,  safely  ensconced  on  his  table- 
land, having  at  his  feet  a  little  stream  which  falls  into 
the  sea  near  Carmel,  and  being  in  communication  with  the 
Greek  and  Catholic  monks  of  Cana  and  Nazareth,  was 
protected  from   attack  by  his  position   and   sure   of  his 

supplies.  „        ,  ■   r 

He  could  therefore  wait  tranquilly  for  the  reinforce, 
ments  which  Bonaparte,  informed  of  the  state  of  things  by 
the  sheik  of  Ahar  would  certainly  not  fail  to  send  him. 


310  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


MOUXT    TABOR. 

As  Roland  had  supposed,  the  sheik  of  Ahar  reached  camp 
at  dawn.  In  accordance  with  Bonaparte's  standing  order  : 
"Always  wake  me  for  bad  news,  never  for  good,"  the  com- 
mander-in-chief was  roused. 

The  sheik,  being  brought  into  liis  tent,  told  him  what  he 
had  seen,  ami  that  twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand  men  had 
crossed  the  Jordan  and  were  now  on  ïiberian  territory. 
In  reply  to  a  question  from  Bonaparte  as  to  what  had 
become  of  Roland,  he  said  that  the  young  aide-de-camp  had 
gone  to  warn  Junot,  at  Nazareth,  and  wislied  him  to  say  to 
Bonaparte  that  there  was  a  broad  plain  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Tabor,  between  that  mountain  and  those  of  Naplous, 
where  twenty-five  thousand  Turks  might  be  laid  out  with 
ease. 

Bonaparte  ordered  Bourrienne  to  be  waked,  asked  for  his 
ma]),  and  sent  for  Kleber. 

When  Kleber  came,  Bonaparte  made  the  young  Druse 
chief,  to  whom  he  gave  a  pencil,  point  out  the  exact  course 
the  ^lussulmans  had  taken,  and  the  one  by  which  he,  the 
sheik  of  Ahar,  had  returned  to  camp. 

"You  will  take  your  division,"  he  then  said  to  Kleber, 
"  which  ought  to  be  two  thousand  strong  or  thereabouts. 
The  sheik  of  Ahar  will  show  you  the  way,  so  that  you  may 
not  take  precisely  the  route  he  took  with  Roland.  Follow 
the  shortest  road  to  Safarieh  ;  to-morrow  morning,  early, 
you  can  be  at  Nazareth.  Let  your  men  each  carry  water 
enough  for  the  march.  I  see  a  river  marked  on  the  map; 
but  at  this  season  I  'm  afraid  it  may  be  dried  up.     Give 


MOUNT   TABOR.  311 

battle,  if  you  can,  in  the  plain  before  or  behind  Mount 
Tabor,  either  at  Loubi  or  at  Fouli.  We  have  a  revenge  to 
take  for  the  battle  of  Tiberias,  won  by  Saladin  over  Guy  de 
Lusiguan,  in  1187.  Don't  be  anxious  about  me.  I  will  get 
there  in  good  time." 

Kleber  collected  his  division;  bivouacked  that  night  at 
Safarieh,  a  town  which  is  said  to  have  been  inhabited  by 
Saint-Joachim  and  Sainte-Anne.  The  same  evening  he  put 
himself  in  communication  with  Junot,  who  had  left  his 
main  body  on  the  table-land  above  Cana,  and  gone  up  to 
Nazareth,  for  which  he  had  a  weakness.  Kleber  learned 
from  Junot  that  the  enemy  had  not  left  his  position  at 
Loubi,  and,  consequently,  that  he  could  meet  him  at  one  of 
the  points  indicated  by  Bonaparte,  that  is  to  say,  before 
Mount  Tabor. 

A  mile  from  Loubi  was  a  village  called  Seyid-Jarra,  occu- 
pied by  a  portion  of  the  Turkish  army,  in  all,  about  seven 
or  eight  thousand  men.  Kleber  made  Junot  attack  them 
with  half  the  division;  while  with  the  rest,  formed  in 
square,  he  charged  the  cavahy.  At  the  end  of  two  hours 
the  pacha's  infantry  was  driven  from  Seyid-Jarra,  and  his 
cavalry  from  Loubi.  The  Turks,  completely  routed,  retired 
in  disorder  to  the  Jordan.  Junot  had  two  horses  killed 
under  him;  finding  nothing  at  hand  but  a  dromedary,  he 
mounted  that,  but  the  beast  bolted  with  him  into  the  midst 
of  tlie  Turkish  horsemen,  among  whom  he  looked  like  a 
giant. 

But  the  camel's  hamstrings  were  soon  cut,  and  it  fell 
upon  its  knees.  Happily,  Roland  had  kept  him  in  sight, 
and  calling  to  Junot's  aide-de-camp.  Teinturier  (the  same 
who  had  been  watching  the  beautiful  women  of  Nazaretli 
with  him),  they  both  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  on  the  mass  of 
men  surrounding  the  general,  and  cut  their  way  through  to 
him.  Junot  mounted  the  horse  of  a  dead  Mameluk,  and 
together  the  three  men,  pistol  in  hand,  pierced  the  living 
wall,  and  re-appeared  to  the  troops,  who  thought  them  dead 
and  were  hastening  to  recover  their  bodies. 


312  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Kléber  had  made  his  march  with  such  rapidity  that  his 
waggons  had  not  kept  up  with  him  ;  he  was  therefore  unable 
to  pursue  the  enemy  for  want  of  ammunition.  He  retired 
to  Nazareth  and  strengthened  his  position  toward  Safarieh. 
On  the  13th  he  reconnoitred  the  enemy.  The  INIameluks 
of  Ibrahim  Bey,  the  Janissaries  of  Damascus,  the  Arabs  of 
Aleppo,  and  the  different  tribes  of  Syria,  had  effected  a 
junction  with  the  Naplousians,  and  the  whole  mass  were 
encamped  on  the  plain  of  Fouli,  that  is  to  say,  the  plain  of 
Esdvelon. 

Kléber  at  once  informed  the  commander-in-chief  of  all 
these  details.  He  told  him  he  had  seen  the  whole  army  of 
the  enemy,  which  probably  amounted  to  thirty  thousand  men 
of  whom  twenty  thousand  were  cavalry  ;  and  he  also  told 
him  that  he  intended  on  the  following  day  to  attack  this 
multitude.  His  letter  ended  as  follows:  "The  enemy  is 
exactly  where  you  wished  him.     Try  not  to  miss  the  ball." 

The  sheik  of  Ahar  was  selected  to  carry  this  dispatch, 
but  as  the  plain  was  covered  with  the  enemy's  couriers,  it 
was  thought  advisable  to  send  copies  by  three  different 
messengers.  Out  of  the  three  dispatches,  Bonaparte 
received  two, — one  at  eleven  at  night;  the  other  at  one 
the  next  morning.  The  third  messenger  was  never  heard 
of  again. 

Bonaparte  had  no  intention  of  missing  the  ball.  He  was 
indeed  most  anxious  to  come  to  a  general  action,  and  fight 
a  decisive  battle  in  order  to  drive  back  the  formidable  mass 
who  might  very  well  crush  him  before  the  walls  of  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre. 

Murat  was  sent  forward  at  two  in  the  morning  with  a 
thousand  infantry,  one  piece  of  light  artillery,  and  a  detach- 
ment of  dragoons.  He  had  orders  to  march  until  he  reached 
the  Jordan,  where  he  was  to  take  possession  of  Jacob's 
Bridge,  and  prevent  the  retreat  of  the  Turkish  army.  It 
was  a  thirty-mile  march. 

Bonaparte  himself  started  at  three  in  the  morning.  He 
took  with  him  everything  that  was  not  strictly  necessary  to 


MOUNT   TABOR.  313 

hold  the  besieged  within  their  walls.  By  daybreak  he  was 
bivouacking  on  the  heights  of  Safarieh,  where  he  issued  a 
ration  of  bread  and  water  and  brandy  to  his  men.  He  had 
been  obliged  to  take  the  longest  route,  because  his  artillery 
and  waggons  could  not  have  followed  him  along  the  banks 
of  the  Kishon. 

At  nine  o'clock  he  resumed  his  march,  and  soon  after 
ten  he  was  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Tabor.  There,  on  the 
vast  plain  of  Esdrelon,  at  a  distance  of  nine  miles,  he  saw 
Kléber's  division  of  barely  twenty-five  hundred  men 
engaged,  as  we  have  said,  with  the  whole  army  of  the 
enemy  which  surrounded  it  on  all  sides.  In  fact,  it  seemed 
like  a  black  patch  in  a  centre  surrounded  by  fire.  More 
than  twenty  thousand  cavalry  were  hovering  around  it  like 
a  whirlwind  ;  sometimes  darting  down  like  an  avalanche. 
None  of  those  Frenchmen,  who  knew  war  well,  had  ever 
seen  so  many  horsemen  moving,  charging,  curveting,  around 
them.  And  yet  each  soldier,  his  foot  pressed  against  that 
of  his  neighbor,  preserved  the  steady  coolness  which  alone 
could  save  him,  and  received  the  Turks  at  the  muzzle  of  his 
gun,  —  not  firing  until  he  was  sure  of  bringing  down  his 
man,  bayoneting  the  horses  when  they  came  too  near,  but 
reserving  his  fire  for  the  riders. 

Each  man  had  received  fifty  cartridges,  but  by  eleven 
o'clock  fifty  more  were  issued.  One  hundred  thousand 
shots  had  been  fired.  Around  them  was  a  rampart  of  dead 
men  and  horses  ;  they  were  sheltered  by  that  horrible  abatis, 
that  bloody  wall,  as  if  in  a  trench. 

That  is  what  Bonaparte  and  his  army  saw  as  they  de- 
bouched on  iMount  Tabor.  At  the  sight,  a  cry  of  enthusi- 
asm escaped  all  breasts  :  — 

**  To  the  enemy  !  to  the  enemy  !  "  they  shouted. 

But  Bonaparte  cried  ''  Halt  !  "  He  forced  his  men  to 
take  fifteen  minutes'  rest.  He  kuew  that  Kléber  could  hold 
out  for  hours  yet  if  necessary,  and  he  meant  that  the 
triumph  of  the  day  should  be  complete. 

He  now  formed  his  six  thousand  men  in  two  squares  of 


314  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

three  thousand  each,  aud  divided  them  in  a  way  to  take  the 
whole  savage  horde,  cavalry  aud  infantry,  in  a  triangle  of 
fire. 

The  combatants  were  so  desperately  intent  upon  their 
work  that,  like  theRomans  and  Carthaginians  at  the  battle 
of  Thrasymene  who  did  not  feel  the  earthquake,  neither 
Turks  nor  Frenchmen  saw  the  approach  of  the  two  armed 
bodies  which  rolled  along  their  Hanks  like  thunderbolts 
still  mute,  though  the  flashing  of  their  brilliant  arms  was 
the  precursor  of  the  storm  about  to  break. 

Suddenly  one  cannon-shot  was  heard.  It  was  the  signal 
Bonaparte  had  agreed  upon  with  Kleber. 

The  three  squares  were  now  less  than  three  miles  apart, 
and  their  triple  fires  were  about  to  plunge  into  the  mass 
of  the  enemy.  The  firing  burst  forth  on  all  three  sides 
simultaneously.  The  Mameluks,  Janissaries,  and  all  the 
horsemen  whirled  about  upon  themselves,  not  knowing 
how  to  escape  the  furnace  ;  while  the  ten  thousand  in- 
fantry, ignorant  of  all  military  science  and  theory,  broke 
their  ranks  instantly,  and  ran  hither  and  thither  against 
the  triple  storm. 

Those  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  take  a  course  between 
the  squares  escaped.  In  less  than  an  hour's  time  they  had 
all  disappeared,  like  dust  swept  onward  by  the  wind,  leaving 
the  plain  covered  with  their  dead,  abandoning  their  camp, 
their  standards,  four  hundred  camels,  and  a  vast  booty. 

The  fugitives  thought  they  had  escaped  ;  those  who  took 
to  the  mountains  of  Naplous  did,  in  fact,  find  refuge  ;  but 
those  who  attempted  to  cross  the  Jordan,  by  which  they 
had  come,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Murat  and  his  thousand 
men.  The  Frenchmen  did  not  stop  the  slaughter  until  they 
were  weary  of  killing. 

Bonaparte  and  Kleber  met  on  the  battle-field,  and  fell 
into  each  other's  arras  amid  the  acclamations  of  their  men. 
It  was  then,  according  to  the  accepted  military  tradition, 
that  the  colossal  Kleber,  laying  a  hand  on  the  shoulder  of 
Bonaparte,  whose  head  came  only  to  his  breast,  said  these 
words,  which  since  then  have  been  hotly  disputed  :  — 


MOUNT  TABOR.  315 

"  General,  you  are  grand  as  the  world  !  " 

Bonaparte  had  a  right  to  be  satisfied.  On  the  very  spot 
where  Guy  de  Lusiguan  was  vanquished,  he  was  victor; 
there,  on  the  5th  of  July,  1187,  the  Frenchmen,  having,  as 
the  Arab  historian  says,  exhausted  everything  "  even  to  the 
water  of  their  tears,"  made  their  last  desperate  stand 
against  the  Moslem  army  commanded  by  Sala-Eddin. 

"  At  the  beginning,"  says  the  same  author,  "  they  fought 
like  lions,  but,  in  the  end,  they  were  dispersed  like  sheep." 
Surrounded  on  all  sides,  they  were  driven  back  to  the  foot 
of  the  mountain  of  the  Beatitudes,  on  Avhich  our  Lord, 
instructing  the  people,  said  :  *'  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit  ;  blessed  are  they  who  mourn  ;  blessed  are  they  who 
suffer  persecution  for  the  right,"  and  where  he  also  taught 
them  :  "  When  ye  pray,  say,  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven." 

The  whole  action  turned  upon  this  mountain,  which  the 
Infidels  called  the  mountain  of  Hittin.  Guy  de  Lusignan 
took  refuge  upon  it,  and  defended  there  as  long  as  he  could 
the  True  Cross  ;  but  he  was  unable  to  prevent  its  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  Mussulmans,  who  killed  the  Bishop  of 
Saint-Jean-d'Acre,  who  bore  it. 

Raymond  of  Toulouse  cut  a  passage  through  them  for 
himself  and  his  men,  and  fled  to  Tripoli,  where  he  died 
of  grief.  So  long  as  a  handful  of  knights  remained,  they 
returned  again  and  again  to  the  charge,  until  they  melted 
away  among  the  Saracens  like  wax  in  a  brazier. 

Finally,  the  banner  of  the  king  himself  fell,  never  to  rise 
again  ;  Guy  de  Lusignan  was  made  prisoner,  and  Saladin, 
taking  from  the  hands  of  the  man  who  brought  it  the  sword 
of  the  "  King  of  Jerusalem,"  dismounted  from  his  horse  and 
gave  thanks  to  ]\[ohammed  for  his  victory.  Never  did 
Christians,  in  Palestine  or  elsewhere,  suffer  so  terrible  a 
defeat.  "  Seeing  the  number  of  the  dead,"  says  an  eye- 
witness, "  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  prisoners  could 
have  been  made  ;  seeing  the  number  of  prisoners,  it  was 
difficult  to  believe  that  any  could  have  been  killed." 

The  king,  after  swearing  to  the  renunciation  of  his  king- 


316  THE    FIKST    REPUBLIC. 

dom,  was  sent  to  Damascus.  All  the  Knight-Templars 
and  Hospitaliers  were  beheaded.  Sala-Eddin,  who  feared 
that  his  soldiers  might  feel  a  pity  he  did  not  feel,  and 
spare  some  of  the  Christian  soldiers,  paid  fifty  gold  pieces 
for  the  head  of  every  one  that  was  brought  to  him. 

Of  the  whole  Christian  army  scarcely  a  thousand  men  were 
left  alive.  "  They  sold,"  says  an  Arab  author,  "  they  sold 
a  prisoner  for  a  pair  of  sandals,  and  in  the  streets  of  Damas- 
cus the  heads  of  the  Christians  were  exposed  for  sale  like 
melons." 

Monseigneur Mislin  relates,  in  his  fine  work  on  the  "Holy 
Places,"  that  one  year  after  tliis  horrible  carnage  he  crossed 
the  fields  of  Hittinand  saw  the  mounds  of  bones  still  heaped 
there  ;  and  he  adds  that  the  mountains  and  valleys  in  the 
neighborhood  were  covered  with  the  bleaching  bones  of  the 
bodies  dragged  there  by  beasts  of  prey. 

After  the  battle  of  Mount  Tabor  the  jackals  of  the 
plains  of  Esdrelon  had  no  cause  to  envy  the  hyenas  of  the 
mountain  of  Tiberias. 


THE   VENDOR   OF   BULLETS.  317 


XI. 

THE    VENDOR    OF    BULLETS. 

Since  Bonaparte's  return  from  Mount  Tabor,  that  is,  for 
more  than  a  month,  there  had  not  been  a  day  when  the 
batteries  ceased  to  thunder,  not  a  day  when  there  was 
truce  between  besieged  and  besiegers. 

It  was  the  first  resistance  that  luck  had  made  to 
Bonaparte. 

The  siege  of  Saint- Jean-d' Acre  had  now  lasted  sixty 
days  ;  there  had  been  seven  assaults  and  twelve  sorties. 
Caffarelli  was  dead  from  the  results  of  the  amputation  of 
his  arm.  Croisier  was  still  languishing  on  his  bed  of  pain. 
A  thousand  men  had  been  killed,  or  had  died  of  the  plague. 
There  was  powder  enough  left,  but  bullets  were  getting 
scarce. 

The  rumor  of  this  fact  began  to  spread  through  the 
army  ;  it  is  impossible  to  hide  such  matters  from  sol- 
diers. One  morning,  when  Bonaparte  was  visiting  the 
trenches  with  Roland,  a  sergeant-major  walked  up  to  the 
latter. 

"  Is  it  true,  captain  ?  "  he  said,  "  that  the  commander- 
in-chief  is  short  of  bullets  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Roland,  "  why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  sergeant,  twisting  his  neck  with  a 
motion  peculiar  to  him,  which  probably  dated  from  the 
days  when  he  first  wore  cravats  and  felt  how  they 
cramped  him,  "  because  if  he  does,  I  can  procure  some." 

"  You  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  —  and  not  dear,  too  :  only  five  sous." 

"Five  sous  !  they  cost  the  government  forty." 


3-3^  THE   FIRST   REPUBUC. 

"  So  you  see  it  is  a  good  bargain." 

"  Are  you  joking  ?  " 

"  Goodness  !  we  don't  joke  with  officers." 

Roland  went  up  to  Bonaparte  and  repeated  tlae  proposal 
of  the  sergeant-major. 

"Those  scam{)S  sometimes  have  good  ideas,"  said  Bona- 
parte ;  "call  him  up." 

Roland  signed  to  the  sergeant  to  advance.  He  came  up 
at  a  marching  step  and  planted  himself  eight  feet  from 
Bonaparte  with  his  hand  to  his  shako. 

"  Are  you  the  man  in  the  bullet  trade  ?  "'  asked  Bonaparte. 

"Yes;  that's  to  say,  I  sell  bullets,  I  don't  make  them." 

"  And  you  sell  them  for  five  sous  ?  " 

"Yes,  general." 

"  How  do  you  manage  it  ?  " 

"Ah!  that's  my  secret;  if  I  told  it  everybody  would 
be  selling  bullets." 

"  How  many  can  you  furnish  ?  " 

"All  you  require,  general,"  said  the  sergeant-major. 

"  Do  you  want  any  help  ?  " 

"Only  the  permission  to  take  a  bath,  for  me  and  my 
company." 

Bonaparte  burst  out  laughing  ;  he  understood. 

"Very  good,"  said  he,  "you  have  it." 

The  sergeant-major  saluted  and  went  off  at  a  run. 

"  There  's  a  fellow,"  said  Roland,  "  with  tolerable  conceit." 

Bonaparte  smiled,  but  did  not  answer.  Presently  the 
company  which  had  received  permission  to  bathe  marched 
by,  with  the  sergeant-major  at  its  head. 

"  Come  and  see  something  droll,"  said  Bonaparte  to  his 
aide-de-camp. 

Taking  Roland's  arm  he  made  his  way  to  a  little  emi- 
nence from  which  he  could  overlook  both  the  bay  and  the 
shore.  There  the  sergeant-major  was  seen  setting  the 
example  of  rushing  into  the  sea,  as  he  might  have  set 
that  of  rushing  under  fire.  He  stripped  off  his  clothes,  so 
did  one  half  of  his  men,  and  together  they  went  into  the 


THE   VENDOR   OF   BULLETS.  319 

water,  while  the  rest  of  the  company  scattered  themselves 
along  the  beach. 

Until  then,  Eoland  had  not  understood  the  performance. 
But  hardly  had  the  sergeant-major  got  so  far  m  executing 
his  manœuvre,  when  from  tiie  two  English  frigates  in  the 
offing  and  from  the  ramparts  of  the  town,  began  a  rain  of 
bullets  ;  but  as  the  soldiers  in  the  water  and  those  on  the 
sand  were  careful  to  keep  at  a  good  distance  from  each 
other,  the  bullets  fell  harmlessly  between  them,  and  were 
instantly  picked  up,  not  one  being  lost,  —  not  even  those 
that  fell  into  the  water,  for  the  beach  sloped  gently  and 
the  men  had  only  to  stoop  and  gather  them  up. 

Koland  could  stand  by  no  longer.  He  was  one  of  those 
men  whom  the  sound  of  cannon  excites  and  the  smell  of 
powder  intoxicates.  "With  two  bounds  he  was  on  the 
shore  ;  flinging  his  clothes  upon  the  sand  he  plunged  into 
the  sea.  Twice  Bonaparte  called  to  him  to  come  back, 
but  he  pretended  not  to  hear.  Bonaparte  followed  him 
with  his  eyes.  He  passed  the  lines  of  bathers  and  swam 
out  almost  under  the  guns  of  the  "  Tigre." 

jVEuskets  were  fired  at  him  ;  the  balls  sent  the  water 
spurting  about  him,   but   he  paid   no   attention   to   them. 

His  action  seemed  so  like  bravado  tho.t  the  officer  on 
the  deck  of  the  "  Tigre  "  ordered  a  boat  lowered.  As  it 
was  not  Roland's  intention  to  be  captured,  he  swam  vigor- 
ously toward  the  reefs  which  run  out  into  the  bay  from 
the  walls  of  the  town  ;  there  no  boat  could  follow  him. 

Roland  disappeai-ed  for  a  few  moments  and  Bonaparte 
began  to  fear  that  some  accident  had  happened,  when  he 
suddenly  saw  him  reappear  at  the  foot  of  the  walls  under 
fire  of  the  musketry.  The  Turks,  seeing  a  Christian  well 
within  range,  fired  with  a  will  ;  but  Roland  seemed  to  have 
made  a  treaty  with  the  balls  ;  not  one  touched  him  as  he 
walked  leisurely  back  along  tlie  edge  of  the  sea.  The  sand 
on  one  side,  the  water  on  the  other  glowed  and  glittered. 
He  regained  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  clothes,  put 
them  on,  and  turned  to  rejoin   Bonaparte.     A  vivandière, 


320  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

who  had  followed  the  company  and  was  distributing  the 
contents  of  her  barrel  among  the  bathers,  offered  him  a 
"little  glass." 

"  Ah  !  is  it  you,  Goddess  Reason  ?  "  said  Roland.  "  You 
know  I  never  drink  brandy." 

"  I  know  that,"  she  said,  "  but  once  in  a  way  is  n't  a 
habit,  and  what  you  have  just  done  needs  a  drop,  citizen 
captain,"  and  again  she  offered  him  a  glassful  of  the  liquor. 
"Ï0  the  health  of  tlie  commander-in-chief  and  to  tlie 
taking  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre,"  she  said. 

Roland  raised  the  glass  toward  Bonaparte  ;  then  he 
offered  a  piece  of  money  to  the  vivandière. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  only  sell  my  brandy  to  those  who 
want  to  buy  courage  ;  not  to  you.  Besides,  my  husband 
is  doing  a  good  business." 

"  What  business  ?  " 

"  He  sells  bullets." 

"  Well,  at  the  rate  they  are  firing  now  he  '11  make  his 
fortune  before  long.     Where  is  your  husband  ?  " 

"Over  there,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  sergeant-major 
of  the  bathing  company. 

As  she  did  so,  a  shell  buried  itself  in  the  sand  not  four 
feet  from  the  speculator.  The  sergeant,  who  seemed  to 
be  familiar  with  all  projectiles,  flung  himself  flat  down 
on  the  earth  and  waited.  At  the  end  of  three  seconds  the 
shell  exploded,  sending  up  a  cloud  of  sand. 

"  On  my  soul  !  Goddess  Reason,"  cried  Roland,  "  I  'm 
afraid  you  're  a  widow." 

But  almost  immediately  from  the  cloud  of  sand  and 
dust  raised  about  him,  the  sergeant-major  rose.  He  seemed 
to  issue  from  the  crater  of  a  volcano. 

"  Vive  la  République  !  "  he  cried,  shaking  himself. 

And  all  along  the  shore  and  in  tlie  sea  the  sacred  cry 
was  echoed,  —  the  sacred  cry  that  made  the  dead  immortal. 


CITIZEN   PIERRE-CLAUDE   FARAUD.  321 


XII. 

HOW    THE    CITIZEN    PIERKE-CLAUDE    FARAUD    WAS    MADE 

SUB-LIEUTENANT. 

This  harvest  of  bullets  lasted  four  days.  By  that  time  the 
English  and  Turks  had  guessed  the  speculation,  which  they 
supposed  at  iirst  to  be  bravado.  When  the  number  of 
bullets  was  counted  there  proved  to  be  three  thousand  four 
hundred  of  them. 

Bonaparte  ordered  Estève,  the  paymaster  of  the  army,  to 
pay  the  exact  amount  at  once. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Estève,  recognizing  the  sergeant,  "  so  you 
are  still  speculating  on  the  artillery?  I  paid  you  for  a 
cannon  at  Frœschwillers,  and  now  I  am  to  pay  you  for  three 
thousand  four  hundred  bullets  at  Saint-Jean-d'Acre." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  the  sergeant,  ''  I  'm  not  a  bit  the  richer  for 
it.  The  six  hundred  francs  for  the  cannon  at  Frœshwillers 
went,  with  our  share  of  the  Prince  de  Condé's  treasure;  to 
the  widows  and  orphans  made  at  Dawendorff." 

"And  this  money,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

"  It  has  its  destination." 

"  May  I  know  what  that  is  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  all  the  more,  citizen  paymaster,  because  you 
will  have  to  attend  to  it.  This  money  is  intended  for  the 
old  mother  of  our  brave  Captain  Guillet,  who  was  killed  at 
the  last  assault.  He  died  bequeathing  her  to  the  company. 
The  Republic  is  n't  rich,  and  it  might  forget  to  give  her  a 
pension.  Well,  in  default  of  a  pension,  the  company  is 
going  to  collect  her  a  little  capital.  I  'm  sorry  those  Eng- 
lish devils  and  Turkish  idiots  guessed  the  trick  so  soon; 
for  we  thought  we  should  make  a  thousand  francs  out  of  it 

VOL.    II.  —  21 


322  THE   FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

for  the  poor  old  soul.  Well,  it  can't  be  helped,  for  you 
know,  citizen  paymaster,  that  the  handsomest  girl  in  the 
world  can't  give  anything  but  what  she's  got,  and  com- 
pany 3  of  the  32d  brigade,  though  she  is  the  pick  of  the 
army,  has  only  a  hundred  and  seventy  francs  to  offer." 

"  Where  does  the  old  mother  live  ?  " 

"  At  Chateauroux,  capital  of  the  Indre.  Ah  !  he  was  a 
faithful  one  to  his  regiment,  our  brave  Captain  Guillet  !  " 

"  Very  good  ;  I  will  see  that  the  money  goes  to  her  in  the 
name  of  Company  3,  32d  brigade,  and  of —  What  is  your 
name  ?  " 

"Pierre-Claude  Faraud,  executor  testamentary." 

"Thank  you.  Now,  Pierre-Claude  Faraud,  I  am  directed 
to  say  that  the  commander-in-chief  wants  to  speak  to  you." 

"  When  he  likes,"  said  the  serjeant-major,  with  his  own 
peculiar  twist  of  the  neck  ;  "  Pierre-Claude  Faraud  is  never 
at  a  loss  for  words." 

"  He  will  send  you  word  when  you  are  to  go  to  him." 

"  I  '11  be  ready." 

The  sergeant-major  pivoted  on  his  heels,  and  marched  off 
to  tlie  camp  of  the  32d  brigade  to  wait  till  he  was  sent 
for. 

Bonaparte  was  at  dinner  in  his  tent  when  they  told  him 
that  the  sergeant-major  he  had  ordered  to  be  summoned  was 
waiting  his  good  pleasure. 

"  Bring  him  in,"  said  Bonaparte. 

The  sergeant-major  entered. 

•*  Ha  !  so  it  is  you,  is  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  citizen  general,"  said  Faraud;  "didn't  you  send 
for  me  ?  " 

"  What  brigade  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"32d." 

"  What  company  ?  " 

"Third." 

"  Captain  ?  " 

"Captain  Guillet,  deceased." 

"  Not  replaced  ?  " 


CITIZEN    PIEKRE-CLAUDE   FARAUD.  S28 

■«Not  replaced." 

"Which  is  the  bravest  of  the  two  lieutenants  ?" 

"No  one  is  bravest  in  the  32d;  they  are  all  brave 
together." 

"  The  oldest,  then  ?  " 

"  Lieutenant  Valats  ;  he  stayed  at  his  post  with  a  shot 
through  his  breast." 

"  The  second  lieutenant  was  not  wounded,  was  he  ?  " 

"  It  wasn't  his  fault." 

"  Very  good.  Yalats  is  promoted  captain,  and  the  second 
lieutenant  is  made  first  lieutenant.  Now,  is  there  any  sub- 
lieutenant who  has  distinguished  himself  ?  " 

"Everybody  has  distinguished  himself." 

"But  I  can't  make  everybody  sub-lieutenant,  animall" 

"  That 's  true  —  well,  there 's  Taberly." 

"  Taberly  ?  who  is  Taberly  ?  " 

"A  brave  fellow." 

"Would  his  promotion  be  liked?" 

"Applauded." 

"  In  that  case  there  would  be  a  sub-lieutenancy  vacant. 
Who  is  oldest  sergeant-major  ?  " 

The  individual  to  whom  the  question  was  addressed 
seemed  in  danger  of  strangling  in  his  neckcloth,  so  curiously 
did  his  neck  twist. 

"  His  name  is  Pierre-Claude  Faraud,"  he  replied. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  about  him  ?  " 

"  No  great  things." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know  him  ?  " 

" It's  just  because  I  do  know  him." 

"  Well,  I  know  him,  too." 

"  You,  general  !  do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  an  aristocrat  from  the  Army  of  the  Rhine  —  " 

«  Oh  !  " 

"A  quarrelsome  fellow  —  " 

"General!" 

"  —  whom  1  caught  fighting  a  duel  at  Milan  with  a  brave 
Republican." 


324  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

"  It  was  a  friend,  general  ;  it  is  always  allowable  to  fight 
a  friend." 

"  I  sent  him  to  the  guard-house  for  forty-eight  hours." 

"No,  twenty-four,  general." 

"  Then  it  ought  to  have  been  forty-eight." 

"  They  can  still  be  done,  general." 

"  When  a  man  is  sub-lieutenant  he  does  n't  go  to  the 
guard-house,  he  is  simply  under  arrest." 

"  General,  Pierre-Claude  Faraud  is  n't  a  sub-lieutenant  ;  he 
is  only  a  sergeant-major." 

"You  are  mistaken  ;  he  is  a  sub-lieutenant." 

"  Ho  !  that 's  a  good  one  !  and  since  when,  pray  ?  " 

"  Since  this  morning  ;  see  what  it  is  to  have  friends  and 
protectors." 

"  Protectors  ?     I  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  then  it  is  you,  is  it  ?  "  said  Bonaparte. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,  and  I  would  like  to  know  who  has  been 
protecting  me." 

"  I,"  said  Estève  ;  "  for  I  have  twice  seen  you  give  away 
generously  the  money  you  had  earned." 

"  And  I,"  said  Roland,  "  who  want  a  brave  fellow  to  sec- 
ond me  in  an  expedition  from  which  not  so  many  will  get 
back." 

"  Take  him,  Roland,"  said  Bonaparte,  "  but  I  advise  you 
not  to  make  him  sentinel  in  a  country  where  there  are 
wolves." 

"  General  !  how  came  you  to  know  that  story  ?  " 

"  I  know  everything,  monsieur." 

"  There  !  general,  you  '11  have  to  do  my  twenty-four  hours 
in  the  guard-house  !  " 

"How  so?" 

"  You  called  me  monsieur." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  you  're  a  smart  lad,"  said  Bonaparte,  laughing, 
"  and  I  sha'n't  forget  you.  Meantime  drink  a  glass  of  wine 
to  the  health  of  the  Republic." 

"  General,"  said  Roland,  laughing,  "  the  citoyen  Faraud 
prefers  to  drink  that  health  in  brandy." 


CITIZEN    PIEREE-CLAUDE   FARAUD.  325 

"  Unluckily  I  have  n't  any,"'  said  Bonaparte. 

"I've  foreseen  that,"  said  Roland,  going  to  the  door  of 
the  tent.     "  Come  in,  Goddess  Reason,"  he  said. 

The  citoyenne  Reason  entered.  She  was  still  handsome 
though  the  sun  of  Egypt  had  tanned  her  complexion. 

"Rose  here  !  "  cried  Faraud. 

"  Ha  !  then  you  know  the  citoyenne,"  said  Roland, 
laughing. 

"I  should  think  I  did;  she  's  my  wife,"  said  Faraud. 

"Citoyenne,"  said  Bonaparte,  "I  saw  you  at  your  work 
when  the  bullets  were  flying.  Roland  wanted  to  pay  you 
for  the  little  glass  you  gave  him  when  he  came  out  of  the 
water,  and  you  refused  to  take  the  money.  So,  as  I  am 
quite  out  of  brandy  in  my  stores  and  my  guests  want  some, 
Roland  said,  '  Let  us  send  for  the  Goddess  Reason,  and  pay 
for  it  all  together.'  That 's  why  you  are  here.  Pour  out, 
now." 

The  citoyenne  Reason  turned  her  little  keg  and  poured 
out  a  glass  for  each  person  present,  omitting  Faraud. 

"  Every  one  must  drink  when  it  is  to  the  health  of  the 
Republic,"  said  Roland. 

"  But  they  are  at  liberty  to  drink  water  if  they  like,"  said 
Bonaparte,  raising  his  glass.  "  To  the  welfare  of  the  Re- 
public,"  he  said,  solemnl3^ 

The  toast  was  echoed  by  all. 

Then  Roland  drew  a  parchment  from  his  pocket. 

"This,  citoyenne,"  said  he,  "is  a  note  of  hand  on  pos- 
terity ;  only  it  is  made  out  in  the  name  of  your  husband. 
You  can  endorse  it,  but  he  must  draw  it." 

With  trembling  hands  the  Goddess  Reason  opened  the 
document,  which  Faraud  gazed  at  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"  Here,  Pierre,"  she  said,  holding  it  out  to  him,  "  read  ! 
it  is  your  commission  as  sub-lieutenant  in  place  of 
Taberly." 

"  Is  that  true  ?  "  asked  Faraud. 

"  Look  for  yourself." 

Faraud  looked. 


326  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

•'  Cré  mille  tonnerres  !  Faraud  sub-lieutenant  !  "  he 
shouted,  ''  Long  live  General  Bonaparte  !  " 

'*  Twenty-four  hours  under  arrest  for  shouting  Long  live 
General  Bonaparte  !  instead  of  Vive  la  République  !  " 

"There!  I  positively  could  n't  escape  them,"  remarked 
Faraud.  ''  But  those  twenty-four  hours,  general,  will  be 
done  with  pleasure." 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT.  327 


XIII. 

THE   LAST   ASSAULT. 

During  the  night  which  followed  Faraud's  nomination  as 
sub-lieutenant  Bonaparte  received  eight  siege  guns  and 
plenty  of  ammunition.  Faraud's  three  thousand  four 
hundred  bullets  served  to  repulse  a  sortie.  The  Accursed 
Tower  was  now  almost  wholly  destroyed.  Bonaparte  re- 
solved on  a  final  effort,  — in  fact,  circumstances  required  it. 

On  the  8th  of  May  a  Turkish  fleet  of  thirty  sail, 
under  convoy  of  British  men-of-war,  was  seen  on  the 
horizon.  Day  had  scarcely  dawned  when  Bonaparte  was 
told  of  this.  In  his  opinion  the  fleet  came  from  the  Island 
of  Rhodes  and  was  bringing  a  reinforcement  of  troops,  am- 
munition, and  provisions  to  the  besieged.  It  was  therefore 
of  the  first  importance  to  carry  the  town  by  assault  before 
the  ship  could  reach  an  anchorage  and  double  the  resources 
of  the  garrison. 

As  soon  as  Roland  saw  that  the  attack  was  really 
decided  on,  he  asked  the  general  to  give  him  two  hundred 
men  and  carte  blanche  to  do  what  he  liked  with  them. 
Bonaparte  demanded  an  explanation.  He  had  great  confi- 
dence in  Roland's  courage,  which  might  be  called  temerity, 
but  on  account  of  that  very  temerity  he  hesitated  to  trust 
the  lives  of  two  hundred  men  to  him  on  any  mysterious 
errand. 

Roland  then  explained  that  on  the  day  he  was  in  the 
water  he  saw  a  breach  in  the  wall  which  could  not  be  seen 
from  the  land,  and  about  which  the  besiegers  gave  them- 
selves no  uneasiness, —  defended  as  it  was  by  an  interior 
battery    and  by  the  guns  of  the  British   ships.     By   this 


328  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

breach  he  could  enter  the  town  and  make  a  diversion  when 
the  chief  assault  took  place.  Bonaparte  gave  him  permis- 
sion. Roland  then  chose  two  hundred  men  of  the  32d 
brigade,  among  whom  was  the  new  sub-lieutenant  Faraud. 

Bonaparte  now  ordered  a  general  attack.  Murat,  Ram- 
pon,  Vial,  Kléber,  Junot,  generals  of  division,  generals 
of  brigade,  corps  commanders,  all  were  to  rush  to  the 
assault. 

By  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  exterior  works  retaken 
by  the  enemy  were  again  recovered  ;  five  flags  were  captured, 
three  cannon  taken,  and  four  spiked.  Never  was  greater 
audacity,  greater  valor,  more  impetuous  ardor,  more 
obstinate  courage  shown  in  any  struggle  for  the  possession 
and  defence  of  a  city.  Never,  since  the  days  when  religious 
enthusiasm  placed  the  sword  in  the  hands  of  the  Crusaders, 
and  Mohammedan  fanaticism  the  scimitar  in  that  of  the 
Turks,  had  so  deadly,  so  murderous,  so  blood}^  a  struggle 
terrified  the  population  of  a  town,  one  third  of  which  was  pray- 
ing for  the  Christians,  the  other  two  thirds  for  the  Djezzar. 
From  the  ramparts,  which  our  soldiers  had  in  some  places 
scaled,  women  could  be  seen  running  through  the  streets  and 
uttering  cries  which  strangely  resembled  both  the  screech- 
ing of  owls  and  the  yelping  of  hyenas,  —  cries  which  those 
who  have  once  heard  them  will  never  forget,  —  and  flinging 
dust  into  the  air  with  invocations  and  curses. 

Generals,  officers,  soldiers  fought  pell-mell  in  the 
trenches.  Kléber,  armed  with  an  Albanian  gun  which  he 
had  wrenched  from  its  owner,  was  using  it  as  a  club,  lifting 
it  above  his  head  as  a  thresher  does  a  flail  ;  and  each  time 
it  descended  it  killed  a  man.  Murat,  his  head  uncovered, 
his  long  hair  waving,  was  swinging  a  sabre  whose  finely 
tempered  blade  cut  down  everything  that  came  in  its  way. 
Junot,  with  sometimes  a  gun,  sometimes  a  pistol  in  his 
hand,  shot  a  man  dead  each  time  that  he  fired. 

The  commander  of  the  18th  brigade,  Boyer,  had  fallen  in 
the  struggle,  with  seventeen  of  his  officers  and  more  than  a 
hundred  and  fifty  of  his  men  ;  their  bodies  served  for  a 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT.  329 

breastwork,  over  which  Lannes,  Bon,  and  Vial  led   their 
men 

Bonaparte,  not  in  the  trench  but  on  the  parapet  of  it,  stand- 
ing motionless,  and  plainly  a  target  from  all  sides,  directed 
the  artillery  himself  until  at  the  end  of  an  hour  the  breach 
was  practicable.  Fascines  not  being  at  hand  to  fill  in  the 
moat,  dead  bodies  were  thrown  in  ;  Turks,  Frenchmen, 
Mussulmans,  and  Christians  Avere  flung  from  the  openings 
of  the  tower  until  they  formed  a  bridge  to  the  top  of  the 
ramparts. 

Cries  of  "  Vive  la  République  !  "  were  heard,  together 
with  shouts  "  To  the  breach  !  to  the  breach  !  "  The  bands 
played  the  Marseillaise  and  the  whole  army  took  part  in 
the  struggle. 

Bonaparte  sent  one  of  his  staff,  named  Raimbaud,  to  tell 
Roland  the  time  had  come  to  make  his  movement.  When 
Raimbaud  learned  what  that  movement  was  he  asked  permis- 
sion to  stay  with  Roland  instead  of  returning  to  Bonaparte. 
The  two  young  men  were  intimate,  and  on  the  battle-field 
such  requests  are  never  refused. 

Faraud  had  managed  to  procure  for  himself  the  coat  and 
epaulets  of  a  dead  sub-lieutenant  and  was  sparkling  at  the 
head  of  the  company.  The  Goddess  Reason,  prouder  even 
than  her  husband  of  his  rank,  marched  on  a  line  with  him, 
with  pistols  in  her  belt. 

Roland  no  sooner  received  the  order  than  he  took  com- 
mand of  his  two  hundred  men  and  dashed  into  the  sea  with 
them,  turned  the  corner  of  the  bastion  where  the  water  was 
up  to  his  waist  and  arrived  at  the  breach,  bugles  blowing. 

This  attack  was  so  unexpected  from  that  quarter  that  the 
guns  which  protected  it  were  not  even  manned.  Roland 
seized  and  spiked  them,  having  no  gunners  with  him  to  serve 
them.  Then,  amid  cries  of  "  Victory  !  victory  !  "  he  and  his 
two  hundred  rushed  through  the  narrow  and  tortuous  streets 
of  the  Eastern  town. 

The  cries  were  heard  by  the  besiegers  on  the  ramparts 
and  redoubled  their  ardor.     For  the  second  time  Bonaparte 


330  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

believed  himself  master  of  Saint- Jean-d' Acre,  and  rushed 
in  person  into  the  Accursed  Tower  which  had  been  captured 
with  so  much  difficulty. 

But  when  he  reached  it  he  saw  to  his  despair  a  second 
line  of  defences  which  arrested  our  soldiers.  It  was  erected 
by  Colonel  Phelippeaux,  his  old  companion  at  Brienne, 
behind  the  outer  line  of  the  fortifications. 

Leaning  half  out  of  an  embrasure  he  shouted  to 
his  soldiers  to  encourage  them.  The  grenadiers,  furious 
when  they  saw  this  new  obstacle,  tried,  in  default  of 
ladders,  to  mount  on  one  another's  shoulders  ;  but,  suddenly, 
while  the  assailants  were  met  in  front  by  the  enemy  who 
swarmed  at  the  top  of  the  second  wall,  they  were  taken  in 
flank  by  a  battery  which  almost  annihilated  them.  A  terrible 
fusillade  burst  forth  on  all  sides,  from  the  houses,  from  the 
streets,  from  the  barricades,  even  from  the  walls  of  the  Djez- 
zar's  seraglio.  A  dense  smoke  rose  from  the  interior  of  the 
town.  This  was  caused  by  Roland,  Raimbaud,  and  Faraud, 
who  set  fire  to  the  bazaar.  From  the  midst  of  the  smoke  they 
were  seen  to  emerge  on  the  terraced  roofs  of  the  houses  in 
order  to  put  themselves  in  communication  with  their  friends 
on  the  ramparts.  Amid  the  glare  and  smoke  of  the  conflagra- 
tion and  the  musketry  their  tricolor  plumes  were  seen  to 
wave,  as  from  roof  to  rampart  came,  for  the  third  time, 
the  cry  of  "  Victory  !  "  —  the  third  time,  and  the  last. 

The  soldiers  on  the  ramparts  who  had  been  ordered  to 
make  their  junction  with  Roland  and  Raimbaud  (a  part 
of  whom  had  dropped  into  the  town,  while  some  still 
fought  on  the  wall  and  some  in  the  fosse  behind  them), 
being,  as  we  have  said,  almost  annihilated  by  the  triple  fire, 
hesitated  as  the  whistling  balls  that  fell  as  hail  passed  over 
them  like  a  hurricane.  Lannes,  wounded  in  the  head,  fell 
on  his  knees  and  was  carried  back  by  the  grenadiers. 
Kleber,  like  a  giant,  invulnerable,  stood  firm  amid  the  blast. 
Bon  and  Vial  were  driven  into  the  moat.  Bonaparte  looked 
about  him  to  see  whom  he  could  find  to  support  Kleber  ; 
but   there  was  none.     All   were  engaged      Weeping  with 


THE    LAST    ASSAULT.  331 

rage,  he  himself  gave  orders  to  retreat,  for  he  could  not 
doubt  that  all  who  had  entered  the  town  with  Eoland  and 
all  who  had  dropped  over  the  second  wall  to  join  him  — 
three  hundred  men  at  least  —  were  cut  to  pieces.  On  the 
morrow  what  a  harvest  of  heads  would  be  poured  into  the 
ditch  ! 

He  was  the  last  to  retire,  and  when  he  reached  his  tent 
he  gave  orders  that  no  one  should  enter  it. 

It  Avas  the  first  time  in  three  years  he  had  ever, 
for  one  moment,  doubted  his  luck.  What  a  splendid  page 
the  historian  might  write  who  could  tell  what  passed  in 
that  soul,  in  that  mind,  during  that  dreadful  hour. 


332  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XIV. 
THE  LAST  EPISODE. 

During  this  time  Roland  and  his  men,  and  the  hundred  or 
so  of  others  who  had  managed  to  cross  the  wall  and  form  a 
junction  with  him  were  expecting  to  be  supported.  They 
now  began  to  fear  they  were  abandoned. 

In  fact,  the  cries  of  victory  which  had  answered  to 
their  own  were,  little  by  little,  silenced  ;  the  musketry  and 
the  cannonading  lessened,  and  at  last,  in  about  an  hour, 
ceased  entirely.  Among  the  many  noises  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  Koland  thought  he  could  distinguish  the 
French  drums  and  trumpets  sounding  the  retreat.  Then, 
as  we  have  said,  all  sounds  ceased. 

Like  a  tidal  wave  rising  on  every  side,  Turks,  Mameluks, 
Albanians,  Arnaouts,  and  English,  the  whole  garrison  of 
eight  thousand  men,  seemed  to  rise  around  the  little  troop 
of  Roland's  three  hundred. 

Then  Roland,  forming  them  into  a  square,  one  face  of 
which  rested  against  the  door  of  a  mosque,  put  fifty  of  his 
troops  within  the  building,  and  made  a  fortress  of  it.  There, 
after  making  his  men  swear  to  defend  their  lives  to  the 
death  against  enemies  from  whom  they  could  expect  no 
quarter,  lie  waited  —  with  fixed  bayonets. 

The  Turks,  depending,  as  usual,  on  their  cavalry,  rushed 
them  upon  Roland's  square  with  such  fury  that  although 
the  French  fire  knocked  over  some  sixty  men  and  horses, 
those  who  followed  rode  up  the  mound  of  bodies  as  they 
w^ould  a  hill,  and  fell  upon  the  still  smoking  bayonets.  But 
there  they  were  forced  to  stop.  The  second  rank  of 
Frenchmen  had  had  time  to  reload,  and  now  fired  at 
short  range. 


THE   LAST   EPISODE.  333 

The  horsemen  were  compelled  to  retreat;  but,  as  they 
could  not  go  back  over  the  mound  of  dead  as  they  came, 
they  escaped  to  the  right  and  to  the  left.  Two  dreadful 
volleys  followed  and  decimiited  them. 

Again  they  returned,  only  the  more  incensed,  and  a 
frightful  struggle  began,  —  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  in  which 
the  Turkish  horsemen,  facing  the  fire  at  close  quarters, 
came  up  to  the  very  bayonets  of  our  soldiers  and  fired 
their  pistols.  Others,  seeing  that  the  reflection  of  the  sun 
on  the  glittering  bayonets  frightened  their  horses,  backeot 
them  against  the  square,  forced  them  to  rear  and  fell  back 
with  them  upon  our  men  ;  while  the  wounded,  dragging 
themselves  along  the  ground  like  serpents,  cut  their 
hamstrings. 

Roland,  armed  with  a  double-barrelled  gun,  as  his  custom 
was  in  such  fights,  laid  low  some  Turkish  leader  at  each 
discharge.  Faraud,  in  the  mosque,  directed  the  firing,  and 
more  than  one  arm  raised  to  give  a  sabre-cut  fell  helpless, 
struck  by  a  ball  from  a  window  in  the  gallery  of  the 
minaret.  Roland,  seeing  that  a  number  of  his  men  had 
fallen,  and  that  in  spite  of  the  triple  row  of  dead  bodies  of 
men  and  horses  which  made  a  rampart  for  his  little  troop, 
he  could  not  long  continue  such  a  struggle,  had  the  door  of 
the  mosque  opened,  and  then,  with  the  utmost  composure, 
and  still  continuing  the  murderous  fire,  he  made  his  men 
enter  the  building  and  then  followed  them. 

The  fire  began  again  through  every  aperture  of  the 
mosque.  But  the  Turks  brought  up  a  piece  of  cannon  and 
pointed  it  at  the  door.  Roland  was  at  a  window,  and  the 
first  three  artillery  men  who  approached  the  touchhole  with 
a  match  were  shot  dead  by  his  hand.  Then  a  horseman 
rode  up  at  speed  and  fired  his  pistol  into  the  touchhole  ; 
the  piece  exploded,  horse  and  rider  rolled  on  the  ground, 
but  the  door  was  blown   in. 

But  from  the  broken  door  there  poured  such  volleys  of 
musketry  that  the  Turks  were  three  times  driven  back 
when  they  tried  to  enter.     Furious,  enraged,  they  rallied 


334  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

and  returned  a  fourth  time,  but  this  time  only  a  few  guns 
answered  their  death-cries.  The  munitions  of  the  little 
troop  were  exhausted.  The  grenadiers  awaited  the  onset 
of  the  enemy  with  fixed  bayonets. 

"  Friends  !  "  cried  Koland,  "  remember  that  you  have 
sworn  to  die  rather  than  be  the  prisoners  of  Djezzar  the 
Butcher,  who  cut  off  the  heads  of  our  comrades." 

"  We  swear  it  !  "  cried  Roland's  two  hundred,  with  one 
voice, 

''  Vive  la  République  !  "  said  Roland. 

"  Vive  la  République  !  "  echoed  all  around  him. 

Every  man  prepared  to  die,  but  to  kill  as  he  died. 

At  this  moment  a  group  of  officers  appeared  in  the  door 
way  ;  at  their  head  was  the  English  commodore.  Sir  Sidney 
Smith.  Their  swords  were  sheathed.  Sir  Sidney  raised 
his  hat  and  made  a  sign  that  he  wished  to  speak.  All  were 
silent. 

"  Messieurs,"  he  said,  in  excellent  French,  ''  you  are  brave 
men,  and  it  shall  never  be  said  that  men  who  behave  as 
heroes  are  massacred  in  my  presence.  Surrender  ;  I  pledge 
you  your  lives." 

''  That  is  too  much,  or  not  enough,"  replied  Roland. 

"  What  do  you  demand  ?  " 

"Kill  us  to  the  last  man  or  send  us  back." 

"You  are  exacting,  messieurs,"  said  the  commodore,  "but 
nothing  can  be  refused  to  men  like  you.  You  must  allow 
me,  however,  to  give  you  an  English  escort  to  the  gates  of 
the  town  ;  otherwise,  not  one  of  you  will  get  there  living. 
Is  that  accepted  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur,"  said  Roland,  "  and  we  can  only  thank 
you  for  your  courtesy." 

The  commodore  left  two  English  officers  to  guard .  the 
door  and  then  advanced  himself  into  the  mosque  and 
offered  his  hand  to  Roland.  Ten  minutes  later  the 
English  escort  arrived.  The  French  soldiers  with  their 
bayonets  on  their  guns,  the  officers  sabre  in  hand,  crossed 
the  town  amid  the  imprecations  of  the   Mussulmans,  the 


THE   LAST   EPISODE,  335 

howls  of  the  women  and  the  cries  of  children,  to  the  gate 
which  led  to  the  French  encampments. 

Ten  or  a  dozen  wounded,  among  them  Faraud,  v^rere  borne 
on  litters  made  with  muskets.  The  Goddess  Eeason 
marched  beside  that  of  the  sub-lieutenant,  pistol  in  hand. 

The  commodore  and  his  marines  accompanied  them  till 
they  were  well  out  of  range  of  the  Turkish  fire,  and  as  the 
little  troop  of  grenadiers  defiled  before  the  red-coats  at 
parting,  the  latter  presented  arms. 

Bonaparte,  as  we  have  said,  had  retired  into  his  tent. 
He  had  asked  for  Plutarch,  and  was  reading  the  biography 
of  Augustus  ;  but  he  thought  of  Koland  and  his  brave  two 
hundred,  now,  without  doubt,  being  put  to  death,  and  he 
muttered  with  Augustus  at  the  battle  of  Teutberg,  "  Varus, 
restore  to  me  my  legions  !  "  But  there  was  no  one  that 
Bonaparte  could  call  on  to  restore  his  legions,  —  no  one  but 
himself  ;  he  was  his  own  Varus. 

Suddenly  a  great  uproar  was  heard  and  the  stirring 
sounds  of  the  Marseillaise  reached  him.  Why  did  they 
rejoice  and  sing,  those  soldiers,  when  he  himself  was  weep- 
ing with  anger  and  regret  ?  He  sprang  to  the  door  of  his 
tent. 

The  first  persons  whom  he  saAv  were  Eoland,  his  aide-de- 
camp Raimbaud,  and  sub-lieutenant  Faraud  standing  on  one 
leg  like  a  heron,  for  the  other  had  a  ball  through  it  ;  the 
wounded  man  was  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  the  Goddess 
Reason.  Behind  came  the  two  hundred  men  whom  Bona- 
parte had  thought  exterminated. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  friend,"  he  cried,  pressing  Roland's  hands, 
"I  have  mourned  you;  I  thought  you  lost.  How  the  devil 
did  you  get  out  of  it  ?  " 

'•  Raimbaud  will  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Roland,  out 
of  temper  at  owing  his  life  to  an  Englishman.  "  I  am 
too  thirsty  to  talk.     I  want  something  to  drink." 

He  took  a  water-pitcher  from  the  table  and  drained  it  at 
a  draught,  while  Bonaparte  went  out  to  welcome  the  group 
of  soldiers  whom  he  had  fully  expected  never  to  see  again. 


336  THE  FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XV. 

VANISHED    DREAMS. 

Napoleon  said  at  Saint  Helena,  when  speaking  of  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre  :  — 

"  The  fate  of  the  East  was  in  that  paltry  place.  If  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre  had  fallen,  I  should  have  changed  the  face  of 
the  world." 

This  regret,  expressed  twenty  years  later,  gives  an  idea 
of  what  Bonaparte  must  have  suffered  when,  realizing  the 
impossibility  of  taking  the  town,  he  issued  the  following 
order  of  the  day  to  all  the  divisions  of  the  army. 

As  usual,  Bourrienne  wrote  it  under  Bonaparte's  dictation. 

"  Soldiers  !  You  have  crossed  the  desert  which  sepa- 
rates Asia  from  Africa  with  more  rapidity  than  the  Arabs 
themselves. 

**  The  army  which  Avas  on  its  march  to  invade  Egypt  is 
destroyed.  You  have  captured  its  general,  his  field  equi- 
page, his  baggage,  gourds,  and  camels. 

"  You  have  seized  all  the  strongholds  that  defend  the 
wells  of  the  desert. 

"  You  have  dispersed  on  the  plain  of  Mount  Tabor  the 
cloud  of  men  gathering  from  all  parts  of  Asia  in  hopes  to 
pillage  Egypt, 

*'  And  now,  after  having,  a  mere  handful  of  you,  sustained 
a  war  for  three  months  in  the  heart  of  Syria,  taken  forty 
cannon,  fifty  flags,  and  six  thousand  prisoners,  after  razing 
the  fortifications  of  Gaza,  Jaffa,  Kaifa,  and  Acre,  we 
shall  now  return  to  Egypt  ;  my  presence  is  needed  there 
for  the  disembarkations  of  the  coming  season. 

"Were  we  to  remain  a  few  days  longer,  you  might  justly 
hope  to  capture  the  pacha  in  his  own  palace  ;  but  at  this 


VANISHED   DKEAMS.  S57 

season  the  taking  of  Acre  is  not  worth  the  delay  of  a  few 
days,  and  I  want  the  brave  men  whom  I  should  certainly 
lose  here  for  more  important  operations. 

"  Soldiers,  we  have  before  us  much  fatigue  and  many 
dangers.  After  taking  from  the  East  all  power  to  hinder 
us  in  this  campaign,  we  shall  now,  perhaps,  be  forced  to 
repulse  the  efforts  of  a  portion  of  the  West. 

"  You  will  find  in  these  new  fields  new  opportunities  for 
glory  ;  and  if,  among  so  many  battles,  each  day  is  marked 
by  a  brave  man's  death,  other  brave  men  must  be  ready  to 
take  his  place  in  the  little  group  of  heroes  who  give  impetus 
in  danger,  and  who  master  victory." 

After  dictating  the  last  words  Bonaparte  rose  and  left  the 
tent,  as  if  to  breathe  more  freely. 

Bourrienne  followed  him,  uneasy.  Events  did  not  usually 
make  so  deep  an  impression  on  that  iron  heart.  Bonaparte 
mounted  the  little  hill  which  overlooked  the  camp,  and 
there  sat  down  upon  a  stone,  gazing  fixedly  at  the  half- 
ruined  fortress  and  the  ocean  lying  before  him  to  the  far 
horizon.     After  a  long  silence  he  said  :  — 

"  Those  who  write  my  life  will  never  understand  why  I 
have  been  so  eagei  for  that  wretched  town.  Ah  !  if  I  could 
only  have  taken  it,  as  I  hoped  !  " 

He  dropped  his  head  into  his  hands. 

"And  if  you  had  taken  it?"  said  Bourrienne,  inter- 
rogatively. 

"  If  I  had  taken  it,"  cried  Bonaparte,  seizing  Bourrienne's 
hand,  "I  should  have  found  the  pacha's  treasure  in  the 
town,  and  arms  and  munitions  for  three  hundred  thousand 
men  ;  I  should  have  raised  and  armed  all  Syria  ;  I  should 
have  marched  on  Damascus  and  Aleppo  ;  I  should  have 
swelled  my  army  with  all  the  malcontents,  and  proclaimed 
to  the  people  the  abolition  of  slavery  and  the  tyrannical 
government  of  the  pachas  ;  I  should  have  reached  Constan- 
tinople with  my  armed  masses,  overthrown  the  Turkish 
sovereignty,  founded  in  the  East  a  new  and  grander  Empire, 
VOL.  II.  —  22 


338  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

and  fixed  my  name  forever  in  posterity,  and  —  possibly  — 
returned  to  Paris  by  Adrianople  and  Vienna,  after  annihi- 
lating the  House  of  Austria." 

It  was,  as  we  see,  simply  Csesar's  project  at  the  moment 
when  he  fell  beneatli  the  daggers  of  his  murderers  ;  it  was 
merely  his  war  begun  in  Parthia  which  this  other  Csesar 
intended  to   end  in   Germany. 

Great  as  the  distance  had  been  between  the  victor  in 
Italy  and  tlie  man  of  the  13th  Vendémiaire,  greater  still 
was  that  between  the  conqueror  of  the  Pyramids  and  the 
victor  in  Italy.  Proclaimed  in  Europe  as  the  greatest  of 
contemporaneous  generals,  he  strove,  on  the  shores  where 
Alexander,  Hannibal,  and  Caesar  fought,  to  equal  if  not  to 
surpass  those  captains  of  antiquity;  and  he  does  surpass 
them,  because  what  they  only  dreamed  of  doing,  he 
attempts  to  do. 

"  What  would  have  happened  to  Europe,"  says  Pascal, 
speakhig  of  Cromwell's  death  from  stone,  ''  if  that  small 
grain  of  sand  had  never  got  into  his  bladder  ?  " 

What  would  have  been  the  result  to  the  world  if  that 
paltry  little  town  of  Saint-Jean-d'Acre  had  not  resisted 
Bonaparte  ? 

He  sat  there  absorbed  in  this  great  mystery  of  the 
Unknown,  when  his  eyes  were  attracted  by  a  small  black 
speck  between  two  mountains  of  the  Carmel  range,  which 
was  evidently  getting  larger  and  larger.  As  it  came  nearer 
it  seemed  to  be  a  soldier  of  the  Dromedary  corps  created 
by  Bonaparte,  with  which,  after  a  battle,  he  gave  chase  to 
fugitives.  The  man  was  coming  on  at  the  long  swinging 
pace  of  his  quadruped. 

Bonaparte  took  his  field-glass  from  his  pocket. 

<'  Good  !  "  said  he,  "  here  's  news  from  Egypt." 

And  he  stood  up. 

The  messenger  recognized  him  and  turned  his  beast  in  the 
direction  of  the  hill.  Bonaparte  went  to  the  foot  of  it,  sat 
down  on  a  stone,  and  waited.  The  soldier,  who  seemed  to 
be  a  good  rider,  put  his  dromedary  to  a  gallop.  He  wore 
the  badge  of  a  sergeant  of  cavalry. 


VANISHED   DREAMS.  339 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?  "  shouted  Bonaparte,  impatient 
for  the  moment  when  he  would  get  within  speaking 
distance. 

"Upper  Egypt,"  shouted  the  sergeant  in  return. 

"  What  news  ?  " 

"Bad,  general." 

Bonaparte  stamped  his  foot. 

"Come  here,"  he  said. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  man  on  the  dromedary  rode  up  ;  the 
beast  knelt  down  and  the  rider  slid  to  the  ground. 

"Here,  citizen  general,"  he  said,  giving  him  a  paper. 
Bonaparte  passed  it  to  Bourrienne. 

"  Read  it,"  he  said. 

Bourrienne  read  :  — 

To  the  Commander-in-chief  Bonaparte  : 

I  do  not  know,  citizen  general,  if  this  dispatch  will  reach  you,  or, 
supposing  that  it  does  reach  you,  whether  you  will  be  in  a  position  to 
avert  the  disaster  with  which  I  am  threatened. 

While  General  Desaix  is  pursuing  the  ^lameluks  in  the  direction 
of  Seyout,  the  flotilla,  consisting  of  the  felucca  "  Italie,"  and  several 
other  armed  boats,  bearing  nearly  all  the  munitions  of  the  division, 
many  articles  of  artillery,  and  all  the  sick  and  wounded,  has  been 
detained  above  Beyrout  by  the  wind. 

The  flotilla  is  about  to  be  attacked  by  Shereef  Hassan  and  some 
three  or  four  thousand  men.  We  are  not  in  a  position  to  resist,  but 
we  shall  resist. 

Nothing  less  than  a  miracle  can  save  us.  I  prepare  this  dispatch 
now,  and  will  add  the  details  of  the  battle  as  they  occur. 

The  Shereef  is  now  beginning  the  attack  with  a  sharp  volley  of 
musketry.  I  have  returned  the  fire.  It  is  half-past  two  in  the 
afternoon. 

TTiree  o^clock.  After  horrible  carnage  from  our  guns,  the  Arabs 
return  to  the  charge  a  third  time.     I  have  lost  one  third  of  my  men. 

Four  o'clock.  The  Arabs  have  flung  themselves  into  the  water 
and  seized  all  our  small  boats.  I  have  only  a  dozen  men  left  ;  the 
rest  are  dead  or  wounded.  I  shall  wait  till  the  Arabs  board  th« 
felucca  and  then  blow  her  up,  Arabs  and  ourselves  together. 


340  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

I  intrust  this  dispatch  to  a   brave    and   capable   mau,    who  has 
promised  me,  in  case  lie  is  not  killed,  to  place  it  in  your  hands. 
Ten  minutes  more,  and  all  will  be  over. 

MoKANDi,  captain. 

"  What  next  ?  "  asked  Bonaparte. 

"  That  is  all,"  replied  Bourrienne. 

«  But  Morandi  ?  " 

"  He  blew  himself  up,  general,"  said  the  messenger. 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  wait  till  he  blew  up  ;  I  swam  off,  putting  the 
dispatch  in  my  tobacco  box,  and  keeping  under  water  till  I 
got  to  a  place  where  I  could  hide  in  the  reeds.  As  soon  as 
it  was  dark  I  got  out  of  the  water  and  crept  along  to  the 
camp  on  my  hands  and  knees  ;  there  I  came  upon  a  sleep- 
ing Arab  and  stabbed  him,  took  his  dromedary,  and  made 
off  at  full  speed." 

*'  Then  you  have  come  all  the  way  from  Beyrout  ?  " 

"Yes,  citizen  general." 

"  Without  an  accident  ?  " 

"  If  you  call  shots  accidents,  I  was  n't  badly  off  for  them, 
neither  I  nor  my  camel;  he  got  three  balls  in  his  thigh, 
and  I  got  one  in  my  shoulder,  and  we  were  very  thirsty  and 
hungry,  too  ;  he  did  n't  get  anything  to  eat,  but  I  ate  some 
horse.  However,  here  we  are  ;  yon  are  well,  general,  and 
it's  all  right." 

"  But  about  Morandi  ?  " 

"  Damn  it  !  as  he  put  the  match  to  the  powder  himself,  I 
don't  suppose  there  's  a  bit  of  him  as  big  as  a  nut  left." 

"  And  the  felucca  ?  " 

"Not  enough  of  her  to  make  a  box  of  matches." 

"  You  are  right,  my  friend  ;  you  have  brought  me  bad 
news.  Bourrienne,  you  will  say  I  am  superstitious  ;  did  you 
hear  the  name  of  the  felucca  that  was  blown  up  ?  " 

"  '  Italie.'  " 

"Well,  hear  this,  Bourrienne.  Italy  is  lost  to  France.  I 
know  it.     My  presentiments  are  never  mistaken." 


VANISHED    DREAMS.  341 

Bourrienne  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  possible  connection  is  there  between  a  boat  that 
blows  up  on  the  Nile,  two  thousand  five  hundred  miles 
from  France,  and  Italy  ?  " 

"  I  have  spoken,"  said  Bonaparte,  in  a  prophetic  tone, 
"  and  you  will  see  my  words  come  to  pass." 

Then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  he  added,  signing  to  the 
messenger  :  — 

"  Take  this  lad,  Bourrienne  ;  give  him  thirty  talaris  and 
make  him  dictate  to  you  his  account  of  the  affair  at 
Beyrout." 

"  If  instead  of  the  talaris,  citizen  general,"  said  the  ser- 
geant, "you  would  give  me  a  drink  of  water,  I  should  be 
very  grateful." 

"  You  shall  have  the  thirty  talaris  and  a  whole  gourd  of 
water  to  yourself  ;  and  also,  you  shall  have  another  sabre  of 
honor  if  you  no  longer  have  the  one  which  General  Pichegru 
gave  you." 

"  He  remembers  me  !  "  shouted  the  sergeant. 

"  I  never  forget  a  brave  man  like  you,  Falou  ;  only,  don't 
fight  any  more  duels,  or  —  look  out  for  the  guard-house." 


342  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XVI. 

THE   RETREAT. 

That  evening,  in  order  to  conceal  its  movements  from 
the  enemy  and  to  avoid  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  army 
began  its  march.  The  order  was  given  to  follow  the  coast 
of  the  Mediterranean  for  the  benefit  of  the  sea  breezes. 

Before  the  start  Bonaparte  called  up  Bourrienne  and  dic- 
tated an  order  that  every  one  should  go  on  foot,  and  that 
the  horses,  mules,  and  camels  should  be  given  exclusively 
to  the  sick  and  wounded. 

An  anecdote  will  sometimes  give  a  better  idea  of  the 
condition  of  a  man's  mind  than  any  possible  description. 
After  Bonaparte  had  issued  this  order,  his  equerry,  the 
elder  Vigogne,  came  into  the  tent,  and,  carrying  his  hand 
to  his  cap,  asked  :  — 

"Which  horse  shall  be  reserved  for  you,  general?" 

Bonaparte  looked  askance  at  the  man;  then  he  struck 
him  a  blow  with  his  whip  across  the  face. 

"Did  n't  you  hear  the  order,  imbecile?  Everybody  goes 
on  foot,  I  as  well  as  the  rest.     Begone  !  " 

Vigogne  disappeared. 

There  were  three  men  ill  of  the  plague  on  Mount  Car- 
mel  ;  they  were  too  ill  to  be  moved,  and  they  were  there- 
fore left  to  the  generosity  of  the  Turks  and  the  care  of  the 
Carmelite  fathers.  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  unhappily,  was  not 
there  to  save  them,  and  the  Turks  cut  their  throats.  The 
news  reached  Bonaparte  before  he  had  gone  six  miles. 
Then  he  flew  into  a  passion  of  which  the  blow  given  to 
Vigogne  was  but  the  preface.  He  stopped  the  caissons 
and  issued  torches  to  the  army,    giving   orders  to  light 


THE   RETREAT.  343 

them  and  burn  the  small  towns,  villages,  hamlets,  houses, 
that  were  on  the  line  of  march. 

The  fields  of  barley  were  just  ripe.  They  were  set  on 
fire.  The  sight  was  magnificent  and  yet  terrible.  The 
whole  coast  was  in  flames  for  a  space  of  thirty  miles  ;  and 
the  sea,  like  a  gigantic  mirror  reflected  the  vast  conflagra- 
tion. The  army  seemed  to  march  between  two  walls  of  fire, 
so  faithfully  did  the  waters  of  the  sea  reproduce  the  image 
of  the  coast.  The  sliore,  covered  with  sand,  alone  un- 
burned,  seemed  like  a  bridge  across  the  Cocytus. 

But  even  so,  this  shore  presented  a  deplorable  spectacle. 
Some  of  the  badly  wounded  men  were  carried  on  litters, 
others  on  mules,  horses,  and  camels.  Chance  had  given  to 
Faraud,  wounded  the  previous  evening,  the  horse  which 
Bonaparte  himself  was  in  the  habit  of  riding.  The  latter 
recognized  both  man  and  beast. 

"Ha!  is  that  how  you  serve  twenty -four  hours  of 
arrest?  "  he  cried. 

"I  '11  do  'em  at  Cairo,"  returned  Faraud. 

"Have  you  anything  to  drink,  Goddess  Reason?"  said 
Bonaparte. 

"A  glass  of  brandy,  citizen  general." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"Ah,  no!  "  she  said.     "I  know  what  you  want." 

And  rummaging  to  the  bottom  of  her  little  cart  she 
brought  forth  a  watermelon,  gathered  in  the  gardens  of 
Carmel. 

"See!"  she  said. 

It  was  a  regal  gift.  Bonaparte  stopped,  and  sent  for 
Kleber,  Bon,  and  Vial  to  share  his  luck.  Lannes,  wounded 
in  the  head,  passed  them  on  a  mule.  Bonaparte  stopped 
him,  and  the  five  generals  finished  their  breakfast  by 
emptying  a  pitcher  of  water  to  the  health  of  the  Goddess 
Reason. 

When  he  resumed  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  column, 
Bonaparte  was  horror-stricken. 

Intolerable  thirst,  a  total  lack  of  water,  excessive  heat. 


344  THE    FIRST   EEPUBLIC. 

and  the  toilsome  march  along  the  burning  sands,  had 
demoralized  the  men  and  changed  all  feelings  of  generosity 
to  cruel  selfishness  and  brutal  indifference.  And  this,  too, 
without  an  interval  of  even  one  day. 

They  began  by  getting  rid  of  those  who  were  stricken 
with  the  plague,  under  pretext  that  it  was  dangerous  to 
carry  them.  Next  they  abandoned  the  wounded.  These 
poor  fellows  remonstrated,  crying  out:  — 

"I'm  not  sick  of  the  plague;  I  am  only  wounded." 
And  they  opened  their  wounds  and  showed  them. 

The  soldiers  paid  no  heed.  "Your  fate  is  settled,"  they 
said,  as  they  mounted  the  horses  and  passed  on. 

Bonaparte  saw  all  this  and  shuddered.  He  stopped  the 
column,  and  forced  every  well  man  mounted  on  a  horse, 
mule,  or  camel,  to  give  up  his  animal  to  the  sufferers. 

The  army  reached  Tentoura  on  the  20th  of  May,  in 
stifling  heat.  In  vain  they  looked  about  them  for  a  little 
verdure,  or  a  little  shade  from  the  brazen  sk3\  Some  lay 
down  on  the  sand,  but  the  sand  burned  them.  Men  fell  at 
every  moment,  never  to  rise  again.  A  wounded  man, 
borne  upon  a  litter,  called  piteously  for  water.  Bonaparte 
approached  him. 

"Who  is  this  you  are  carrying?"  he  said  to  the  men, 
who  bore  the  litter. 

"  We  don't  know,  citizen  general,  —  a  double  epaulet, 
anyhow.  " 

The  voice  was  silent;  it  ceased  to  complain  and  beg  for 
water. 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  Bonaparte. 

The  wounded  man  made  no  answer. 

Bonaparte  raised  the  side  of  the  awning,  and  recognized 
Croisier. 

"Ah,  my  poor  boy!  "  he  cried. 

Croisier  sobbed. 

"Come,  come,"  said  Bonaparte,  "take  courage!  " 

"Oh!"  said  Croisier,  lifting  himself  in  his  litter,  "do 
you  think  I  am  weeping  because  I  am  going  to  die?     I 


THE   RETREAT.  345 

weep  because  you  called  me  a  coward;  and  because  you 
called  me  a  coward,  I  tried  to  get  myself  killed." 

"But,"  said  Bonaparte,  "since  then  I  sent  you  a  sabre; 
did  not  Roland  give  it  to  you?  " 

"Here  it  is,"  said  Croisier,  grasping  his  weapon  which 
lay  beside  him  in  the  litter,  and  carrying  it  to  his  lips. 
"  Those  who  are  carrying  me  know  I  want  it  buried  with 
me.     Order  them  to  do  so,  general." 

And  he  clasped  his  hands  in  supplication. 

Bonaparte  dropped  the  curtain  of  the  litter,  gave  the 
order,   and  passed  on. 

The  next  day,  on  leaving  Tentoura,  they  came  upon  a 
quicksand.  This  they  were  obliged  to  cross;  there  was 
no  other  road.  The  artillery  attempted  it;  the  cannon 
sank  at  every  step.  They  laid  the  wounded  on  the  firm 
ground,  and  added  their  horses  to  those  of  the  artillery. 
It  was  useless  ;  the  gun  carriages  and  the  caissons  sank  to 
the  hubs  of  their  wheels.  The  well  men  added  their 
strength  to  that  of  the  horses;  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 
They  exhausted  themselves  without  result.  Weeping, 
they  were  forced  to  abandon  those  iron  friends  so  often 
blessed,  the  witnesses  of  their  triumphs,  whose  echoes 
had,  again  and  again,  made  Europe  tremble. 

On  the  22d  of  May  they  reached  Csesarea.  So  many 
of  the  sick  and  wounded  were  now  dead  that  horses  were 
no  longer  scarce.  Bonaparte,  who  was  ill  himself,  came 
near  breaking  down  that  night  with  fatigue.  Those  about 
him  entreated  so  earnestly  that  he  would  ride  that  he  con- 
sented on  the  following  morning  to  mount  his  horse.  He 
had  hardly  ridden  three  hundred  yards  out  of  Csesarea 
before,  toward  daybreak,  a  man  rushed  from  the  bushes, 
fired  at  him  almost  at  close  quarters,  and  missed  him. 

The  soldiers  who  were  near  the  general  rushed  into  the 
wood  and  caught  the  man,  who  was  a  Naplousian,  and  con- 
demned him  to  be  shot  instantly.  Four  men  pushed  him 
to  the  edge  of  the  sea  with  the  end  of  their  carbines  and 
fired;  but  not  a  weapon  went  off.  The  night  had  been 
very  damp,  and  the  powder  was  spoilt. 


346  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

The  Syrian,  astonished  to  find  himself  alive,  recovered 
his  presence  of  mind.  Plunging  into  the  water,  he  swam 
rapidly  to  a  distant  reef.  In  the  first  moment  of  stupefac- 
tion the  soldiers  watched  him  without  remembering  to  fire 
upon  him.  But  Bonaparte,  thinking  of  the  ill-effect  so 
likely  to  be  produced  on  the  population  if  such  an  attempt 
remained  unpunished,  ordered  a  company  of  men  to  aim 
at  him. 

They  obeyed;  but  by  that  time  the  man  was  out  of 
range.  The  balls  skipped  on  the  water,  but  did  not  reach 
the  rock.  The  Naplousian  pulled  a  dagger  from  his  breast 
and  flourished  it  with  a  threatening  gesture.  Bonaparte 
ordered  the  men  to  put  a  charge  and  a  half  of  powder  in 
their  guns,  and  fire  again. 

"Useless,"  said  Roland.     "I  am  going." 

Already  the  young  man  had  thrown  off  his  clothes. 

"Stay  here,  Roland,"  said  Bonaparte;  "I  won't  have 
you  risk  your  life  for  that  of  an  assassin." 

But  whether  he  did  not  hear,  or  did  not  choose  to  hear, 
Roland,  who  had  already  taken  the  dagger  of  the  sheik  of 
Ahar  (who  was  retreating  with  the  army),  flung  himself 
into  the  sea,  with  the  dagger  between  his  teeth.  The 
soldiers,  who  knew  the  young  captain  for  the  boldest  man 
in  the  army,  stood  round  in  a  circle,  and  cried  "Bravo!  " 
Bonaparte  was  compelled  to  stay  and  witness  the  duel  that 
was  about  to  take  place. 

The  Syrian,  seeing  that  only  one  man  pursued  him,  did 
not  try  to  flee  farther.  He  waited.  The  man  was  a  fine 
sight  to  behold  as  he  stood  there  on  his  rock,  with  one 
hand  clenched,  and  his  dagger  in  the  other.  He  was  like 
the  statue  of  Spartacus  on  its  pedestal. 

Roland  swam  to  him  in  a  direct  line,  straight  as  an 
arrow.  The  Kaplousian  made  no  attempt  to  attack  him 
till  he  had  gained  a  foothold  on  the  rock.  Roland  issued 
from  the  water,  young,  beautiful,  and  dripping  like  a 
marine   god. 

They  faced  each   other.      The  ground   on  which   they 


THE   RETREAT.  347 

were  about  to  fight  rose  from  the  sea  like  the  shell  of  an 
immense  tortoise.  The  spectators  xpected  a  struggle, 
in  which  each  combatant,  taking  precautions  against  his 
adversary,  would  give  them  the  spectacle  of  a  long 
and  wary  fight.  The  result  was  different  from  their 
expectations. 

Hardly  had  Koland  planted  his  feet  firmly  and  dashed 
from  his  eyes  and  hair  the  water  that  was  blinding  him, 
when,  without  protecting  himself  against  the  dagger  of  his 
adversary,  he  rushed  at  him,  not  as  a  man  darts  at  another 
man,  but  as  a  jaguar  springs  upon  a  hunter.  The  blades 
of  their  weapons  were  seen  to  sparkle  and  then  both  men, 
as  if  uprooted  from  their  pedestal,  fell  headlong  into  the 
sea. 

The  water  swirled  furiously.  Then  a  head  was  seen  to 
reappear,  —  it  was  Roland's  blond  head.  With  one  hand 
he  clung  to  the  crannies  of  the  rock;  then  one  knee  gained 
a.  resting-place.  A  moment  more,  and  he  stood  erect, 
holding  aloft,  by  a  lock  of  its  long  hair,  the  head  of  the 
Naplousian.  Was  it  Perseus  with  the  head  of  the 
Gorgon? 

An  immense  hurrah  burst  from  the  throats  of  the  spec- 
tators and  lasted  until  Roland,  with  a  smile  upon  his  lips, 
reached  the  shore. 

The  army  had  halted.  The  well  men  thought  no  longer 
of  heat  and  thirst;  the  wounded  forgot  their  wounds;  even 
the  dying  had  strength  to  rise  on  their  elbows.  Roland 
landed  within  ten  steps  of  Bonaparte. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  flinging  his  bloody  trophy  at  the 
general's  feet;  "there  is  the  head  of  your  assassin." 

In  spite  of  himself,  Bonaparte  recoiled;  but,  as  for 
Roland,  calm  as  if  he  had  only  taken  his  ordinary  bath, 
he  went  straight  to  his  clothes  and  dressed  himself  with 
all  the  care  of  a  dainty  woman. 


348  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XVII. 

IN    WHICH     WE     FIND     THAT     BONAPARTE's     PRESENTIMENTS 
WERE    NOT   MISTAKEN. 

On  the  24th  of  May,  the  army  reached  Jaffa.  There  they 
remained  till  the  28th. 

Jaffa  was  indeed  a  city  of  ill-luck  to  Bonaparte. 

Our  readers  will  remember  the  four  thousand  prisoners 
of  Eugène  Beauharnais  and  Croisier,  who  could  not  be  fed, 
or  guarded,  or  sent  to  Cairo,  and  were  therefore  shot.  A 
more  serious  and  painful  necessity  —  perhaps  a  necessity  — 
awaited  Bonaparte  on  his  return. 

A  pest-house,  or  hospital  for  the  plague,  Avas  at  Jaffa. 

We  have  in  the  Museum  of  the  Louvre  a  magnificent 
picture  by  Gros  representing  Bonaparte  touching  his  plague- 
stricken  soldiers  in  this  hospital  at  Jaffa.  Though  it 
represents  a  fact  that  never  existed,  the  picture  is  none  the 
less  fine. 

Here  is  what  M.  Thiers  has  to  say  about  this  matter  of 
the  plague  at  Jaffa.  We  regret  to  find  ourselves,  a  puny 
novelist,  once  more  in  opposition  to  the  giant  of  history. 
The  author  of  the  '^  Révolution  "  and  of  the  "  Consulat  et 
l'Empire  "  says  :  — 

"  When  he  returned  to  Jaffa  Bonaparte  blew  up  the  fortifications. 
There  was  in  the  town  a  hospital  for  our  men  who  were  ill  of  the 
plague.  It  was  impossible  to  remove  them;  if  not  removed,  they 
were  left  to  certain  death,  either  from  disease,  or  hunger,  or  the 
cruelty  of  the  enemy.  Bonaparte  said,  therefore,  to  the  surgeon-in- 
charge,  Desgenettes,  that  it  would  be  more  humane  to  give  them 
opium  than  to  let  them  live  ;  to  which  the  surgeon  answered  :  '  My 


Ph 


bonapakte's  presentiments.       349 

business  îs  to  cure  them,  not  to  kill  them.'  The  opium  was  not 
administered,  and  this  fact  has  been  used  to  promulgate  an  unworthjr 
calumny,  which  is  now  forever  silenced." 

I  humbly  ask  pardon  of  M.  Thiers,  but  that  answer  of 
Desgenettes  (whom  I  knew  intimately,  as  I  did  Larrey,  as 
I  did  all  the  Egyptians,  the  companions  of  my  father  on 
that  memorable  expedition),  —  that  answer  of  Desgenettes  is 
as  apocryphal  as  the  famous  answer  of  Cambronne.  God 
preserve  me  from  "calumniating,"  that  is  M.  Thiers's  own 
term,  the  man  who  illuminated  the  first  years  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  with  the  torch  of  his  glory,  and  when  we 
reach  the  end  of  Pichegru  and  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  it  will 
be  seen  whether  I  make  myself  the  echo  of  infamous 
rumors  ;  but  truth  is  a  unity,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  whoso- 
ever speaks  to  the  masses  to  tell  it  openly. 

We  have  said  that  the  picture  by  Gros  represents  an 
incorrect  fact  ;  let  us  prove  this.  Here  is  Davout's  report, 
written  under  the  eyes,  and  by  the  order  of  the  commander- 
in-chief  in  his  official  despatch  :  — 

"The  Army  reached  Jaffa  the  .5th  Prairial  (24th  of  May).  It 
remained  there  till  the  8th  (27th).  That  time  was  employed  iu  pun- 
ishing the  villages  that  had  so  ill-conducted  themselves.  The 
fortifications  of  Jaffa  were  blown  up.  All  the  iron  of  the  artillery 
was  flung  into  the  sea.  Our  wounded  were  removed  by  land  and  sea. 
There  were  but  few  ships,  and  in  order  to  give  time  for  the  evacua- 
tion by  land  the  army  was  compelled  to  delay  its  departure  till  the 
9th  (28th).  Kleber's  division  formed  the  rear-guard,  and  did  not 
leave  Jaffa  till  the  10th  (29th)." 

Not  a  word  about  the  plague,  not  a  word  about  the  hos- 
pital, much  less  about  the  touching  of  the  plague  patients. 
Not  a  word  on  these  matters  is  in  any  ofi&cial  report. 

Bonaparte,  whose  eyes,  ever  since  he  had  left  the  East, 
were  continually  turned  toward  France,  would  scarcely 
have  shown  such  unnecessary  modesty  as  to  have  suppressed 
a  fact  so  remarkable,  and  one  which  would  have  done  much 
honor,  not  perhaps  to  his  good  sense,  but  to  his  courage. 


350  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

Here  is  how  Bourrienne,  an  eye-witness  and  a  very 
impressionable  one,  relates  the  facts  :  — 

"  Bonaparte  visited  the  hospital.  There  were  cases  of  amputations 
and  other  wounds  and  many  men  afflicted  with  ophthahnia,  all  of 
whom  made  lamentable  complaints,  and  others  ill  with  the  plao^ue. 
The  plague  patients  lay  to  the  right  of  the  first  ward  we  entered.  I 
was  beside  the  general,  and  I  affirm  that  I  did  not  see  him  touch  a 
plague  patient.  Why  should  he  have  done  so  ?  They  were  all  in 
the  last  stages  of  the  disease  ;  not  one  of  them  spoke.  Bonaparte 
knew  very  well  that  he  was  not  exempt  from  contagion.  Would  he 
have  tried  to  tempt  fortune  ?  Fortune,  indeed,  had  not  been  so 
friendly  to  him  the  last  few  months  that  he  would  now  have  trusted 
blindly  to  her  favors.  I  ask  this:  would  he  have  exposed  himself  to 
almost  certain  death,  to  the  risk  of  leaving  his  army  alone  in  the 
desert  we  had  just  created  by  our  ravages,  in  a  wretched  town  of 
half-demolished  hovels,  without  succor,  and  no  prospect  of  receiving 
any,  —  he,  so  necessary,  so  indispensable,  it  cannot  be  denied,  to  his 
army  ;  he  on  whose  head  now  rested,  beyond  a  doubt,  the  lives  of  all 
those  who  had  survived  this  last  disaster  and  who  had  just  proved 
to  him  by  their  devotion,  their  sufferings,  privations,  and  unalterable 
courage,  that  they  would  do  for  him  all  that  he  could  ask  of  human 
nature,  and  also  that  they  had  confidence  in  him  alone?  " 

In  all  this,  Bourrienne  is  logical  ;  what  follows  is  con- 
vincing :  — 

"  Bonaparte  passed  quickly  through  the  wards,  tapping  the  yellow 
tops  of  his  boots  with  the  whip  that  he  carried  in  his  hand.  He  said 
aloud,  as  he  walked  rapidly  along:  — 

"'The  fortifications  are  destroyed;  fortune  was  against  me  at 
Saint-Jean-d'Acre.  I  am  obliged  to  return  to  Egypt  in  order  to  pro- 
tect it  from  enemies  who  are  on  their  way  there.  The  Turks  will  be 
here  in  a  few  hours.  Let  those  who  are  able  to  rise,  come  with  us. 
They  shall  be  transported  in  litters  or  on  horseback.' 

"  There  were  scarcely  more  than  sixty  plague  patients  in  the 
hospital  ;  all  that  has  been  said  about  a  greater  number  is  an  exagge- 
ration. Their  absolute  silence,  their  utter  prostration,  their  complete 
loss  of  vital  energy,  showed  that  their  end  was  approaching.  To 
take  them  away  in  such  condition  would  only  inoculate  the  rest  of  the 
army  with  the  disease." 


Bonaparte's  presentiments.  351 

The  world  demands  the  history  of  conquests,  glory,  and 
brilliant  deeds.  It  ought  also  to  understand  the  true  nature 
of  misfortunes.  When  it  thinks  it  has  reason  to  blame  the 
conduct  of  a  leader,  driven  by  reverses  and  disastrous 
circumstances  to  direful  extremities,  it  ought,  .  before 
declaring  judgment,  to  identify  itself  with  his  known 
position,  and  then  ask,  with  its  hand  upon  its  con- 
science, whether  it  would  not  have  acted  in  like  manner 
itself.  If  it  would,  then  it  ought  to  compassionate  him 
who  is  forced  to  do  what  must  seem  cruel.  And  it  is 
bound  to  absolve  him  ;  for  victory  —  let  us  say  this 
frankly  —  victory  is  won  only  by  these  horrors  or  others 
like  them. 

Here  is  how  Bourrienne,  who  had  every  interest  in  tell- 
ing the  truth,  goes  on  :  — 

"  He  ordered  an  examination  into  what  was  best  to  do.  The 
report  was  that  six  or  eight  men  were  so  dangerously  ill  that  they 
could  not  live  more  than  twenty-four  hours;  and,  moreover,  in  their 
stage  of  the  disease,  they  would  spread  the  plague  among  the  soldiers 
who  came  in  contact  with  them.  Several  of  them  begged  to  be 
killed.  It  was  thought  an  act  of  mercy  to  advance  their  death  by  a 
few  hours." 

Can  there  be  any  further  doubt?  Napoleon  himself 
shall  now  speak  in  his  own  person  :  — 

"  What  man  would  not  have  preferred  a  quick  death  to  the  horror 
of  being  exposed  to  the  tortures  of  those  barbarous  wretches  ?  If 
my  son  —  and  I  think  I  love  him  as  much  as  a  father  can  love  his 
children  — if  he  were  in  a  situation  like  that  of  those  unfortunate 
men,  my  desire  would  be  that  the  same  action  should  be  taken  ;  and  if 
I  myself  was  in  that  position,  I  should  demand  to  be  treated  in  that 
way." 

Nothing  can  be  clearer,  it  seems  to  me,  than  these  few 
lines.  How  happened  it  that  M.  Thiers  nerer  read  them  ; 
or,  if  he  read  them,  how  happens  it  that  he  denies  a  deed 
acknowledged  by  the  man  who  had  the  greatest  interest  in 
denying  it? 


352  THE  FIEST   REPUBLIC. 

In  thus  re-estaLlisliing  the  truth,  we  are  not  blaming 
Bonaparte,  who  could  not  do  otherwise  than  as  he  did  y  we 
are  simply  showing  to  the  devotees  of  pure  history  that 
pure  history  is  not  always  true  history. 

The  little  army,  in  returning  to  Cairo,  followed  the  same 
route  it  had  taken  on  leaving  it  ;  only,  the  heat  was  far 
greater  and  increasing  every  day.  Leaving  Gaza  it  was 
35°  centigrade,  and  if  the  thermometer  touched  the  sand 
the  mercury  went  up  to  45°. 

Shortly  before  arriving  at  El  Arish,  in  the  middle  of  the 
desert,  Bonaparte  saw  two  men  filling  up  a  grave.  He 
thought  he  remembered  having  spoken  to  them  a  fortnight 
earlier.  When  questioned,  they  replied  that  it  was  they 
who  had  carried  Croisier's  litter.  The  poor  fellow  had  just 
died  of  tetanus. 

"  Have  you  buried  his  sabre  with  him  ?  "  asked  Bona- 
parte. 

"  Yes,"  answered  both  of  them  at  once. 

''  Quite  sure  ?  "  insisted  Bonaparte. 

One  of  the  men  jumped  into  the  grave,  and  feeling  about 
in  the  loose  sand  he  drew  up  the  hilt  of  the  weapon  and 
showed  it  to  Bonaparte. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  general  ;  "  go  on  with  your  work." 

He  remained  standing  by  the  grave  until  it  was  filled; 
then,  fearing  it  might  be  rifled,  he  called  out  :  — 

"  A  volunteer  as  sentry  here  till  the  army  has  passed." 

"  Here,"  said  a  voice  above  him  ;  and  looking  up  Bona- 
parte saw  the  cavalry-sergeant  Falou  perched  on  his 
dromedary. 

'*  Ah,  is  that  you  ?  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  citizen  general." 

"  What  are  you  doing  on  a  dromedary  when  everybody 
else  is  afoot  ?  " 

"  Two  men  died  of  the  plague  on  the  back  of  my  drome- 
dary, and  nobody  is  willing  to  mount  him." 

"  You  are  not  afraid  of  the  plague,  it  seems  ?  " 

''  I  am  not  afraid  of  anything,  general." 


BONAPARTE'S   PRESENTIMENTS.  353 

"  Oh,  you  are  not  ?  "  said  Bonaparte  ;  "  I  shall  remember 
that.  Find  your  friend  Faraud,  and  come  and  see  me,  both 
of  you,  at  Cairo." 

"We'll  be  there,  general." 

Bonaparte  lowered  his  eyes  once  more  to  Croisier's 
mound. 

"  Sleep  in  peace,  poor  Croisier  !  "  he  said  ;  '  your  humble 
grave  will  seldom  be  disturbed." 

VOL.  II.  — 23 


354  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 


XVIII. 

ABOUKIB. 

Ox  the  14th  of  June,  1799,  after  a  retreat  across  the  burn, 
ing  sands  of  Syria  that  was  almost  as  disastrous  as  that 
from  Moscow  through  the  snows  of  the  Beresina,  Bonaparte 
re-entered  Cairo  amid  a  vast  throng  of  people.  The  sheik 
who  awaited  him  brought  as  a  gift  a  magnificent  Arab 
horse  and  the  Mameluk  Koustan. 

Bonaparte  had  said,  in  his  proclamation  dated  from  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre,  that  he  returned  to  Egypt  to  oppose  the  dis- 
embarkation of  a  Turkish  army  forming  in  the  Island  of 
Rhodes.  His  information  on  this  point  was  correct.  On 
the  11th  of  July  the  look-outs  at  Alexandria  descried  on 
the  horizon  seventy-two  sail,  twelve  of  which  were  vessels 
of  war  flying  the  Turkish  flag. 

General  Marmont,  who  commanded  at  Alexandria,  sent 
courier  after  courier  to  Cairo  and  to  Rosetta,  ordered  the 
commandant  at  Eamanieh  to  send  him  all  his  available 
troops,  and  despatched  two  hundred  of  his  own  men  to 
the  fort  of  Aboukir  to  strengthen  the  garrison. 

The  same  day  the  commander  at  Aboukir,  Godard,  wrote 
to  Marmont,  saying  :  — 

"  The  Turkish  fleet  is  anchored  in  the  roadstead  ;  my  men  and  I 
will  be  killed  to  the  last  man  sooner  than  surrender." 

The  days  of  the  12th  and  13th  were  spent  by  the  enemy 
in  awaiting  their  lagging  vessels.  By  evening  of  the  13th 
one  hundred  and  thirteen  sail  were  counted  in  the  road- 
stead, —  thirteen  ships-of-the-line  of  seventy-four  guns, 
nine  frigates,  and  seventeen  gunboats  j  the  rest  were 
transports. 


ABOUKIR.  355 

By  the  following  evening  Godard  and  his  men  had  kept 
their  word  ;  they  were  all  dead,  but  the  redoubt  was  taken. 
Thirty-iive  men  remained,  shut  up  in  the  fort.  They  were 
commanded  by  Colonel  Vinache  ;  he  held  out  two  days 
against  the  whole  Turkish  army. 

Bonaparte  received  this  news  at  the  Pyramids.  He  in- 
stantly started  for  Ramanieh,  where  he  arrived  on  the  19th 
of  July. 

The  Turks,  masters  of  the  fort  and  also  of  the  redoubt, 
had  disembarked  their  whole  artillery  ;  Marmont,  in  Alex- 
andria, having  nothing  to  oppose  to  them  but  eighteen 
hundred  troops  of  the  line  and  two  hundred  marines  of 
the  "Nautical  legion,  was  sending  courier  after  courier  to 
Bonaparte. 

Happily,  instead  of  marching  on  Alexandria,  as  Marmont 
feared,  or  on  Rosetta,  as  Bonaparte  feared,  the  Turks,  with 
their  usual  indolence,  contented  themselves  by  occupying 
the  promontory  and  digging  a  long  line  of  intrenchments 
from  the  left  of  the  redoubt  to  Lake  Madieh.  In  front  of 
the  redoubt,  at  a  distance  of  perhaps  six  thousand  feet, 
they  had  fortified  two  hillocks  (mamelons),  and  put  one 
thousand  men  into  one,  and  two  thousand  into  the  other. 
There  were  eighteen  thousand  men  in  all  ;  but  they  seemed 
to  have  come  to  Egypt  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  be 
besieged,  for  they  made  no  demonstration  inland. 

Bonaparte  awaited  them  ;  but  seeing  that  Mustapha  pacha 
made  no  movement  toward  him,  he  resolved  on  attacking 
the  enemy  himself.  On  the  23d  of  July  he  ordered  the 
French  army,  which  was  only  two  hours'  march  from  the 
Turkish  army,  to  put  itself  in  motion. 

The  advanced  guard,  comprising  Murat's  cavalry  and 
the  three  battalions  of  General  Destaing,  with  two  pieces 
of  artillery,  formed  the  centre.  The  division  of  General 
Kampon,  under  whose  orders  were  Generals  Fugière  and 
Lanusse,  marched  on  the  left.  To  right,  along  the  shores 
of  Lake  Madieh,  was  General  Lannes's  division. 

Davout,  placed  between  Alexandria  and  the  army  with 


356  THE   FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

two  squadrons  of  cavalry  and  one  hundred  dromedaries, 
Avas  charged  with  liolding  in  check  Murad  Bey,  or  any 
other  force  coming  to  the  assistance  of  the  Turks,  and  to 
maintain  the  communication  between  Alexandria  and  the 
army. 

Kleber,  who  was  expected  at  every  moment,  was  to 
form  the  reserve  ;  and  Menou,  who  was  on  his  way  to 
Eosetta,  reached  the  extremi4;y  of  the  bar  of  the  Nile, 
close  to  the  passage  of  Lake  Madieh,  at  sunrise. 

The  French  army  was  thus  within  sight  of  the  intrench- 
ments  before  the  Turks  even  knew  of  its  neighborhood. 
Bonaparte  formed  three  columns  of  attack.  General 
Destaing,  who  commanded  them,  marched  straight  to  the 
fortified  mamelon  on  the  right;  while  two  hundred  of 
Murat's  cavalry,  which  was  stationed  between  the  two 
mamelons,  were  detached,  and  describing  a  curve,  cut  off 
the  retreat  of  the  Turks  attacked  by  General  Destaing. 

During  this  time  Lannes  marched  upon  the  left  mame- 
lon, which  was  defended  by  two  thousand  Turks,  and 
Murat  slipped  two  hundred  more  of  Ids  cavalry  behind 
it.  Destaing  and  Lannes  attacked  almost  at  the  same 
moment  and  with  equal  success.  The  two  mamelons  were 
taken  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The  flying  Turks, 
meeting  our  cavalry  to  right  and  left  of  the  promontory, 
flung  themselves  into  the  sea. 

Destaing,  Lannes,  and  Murat  then  moved  to  the  village 
which  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  peninsula,  and  attacked 
it  in  front.  A  column  issued  from  the  Turkish  camp  at 
Aboukir  and  advanced  to  the  support  of  the  village. 
Murat  drew  his  sabre,  which  he  never  did  till  the  supreme 
moment  came,  waved  on  his  cavalry,  charged  the  column, 
and  drove  it  back  to  Aboukir. 

During  this  time  Lannes  and  Destaing  carried  the  vil- 
lage. The  Turks  fled  on  all  sides,  meeting  Murat's  cavalry 
which  returned  upon  them.  Four  or  five  thousand  bodies 
were  already  heaped  upon  the  battlefield.  The  French 
had  only  one  man  wounded;  he  was  a  mulatto,  from  my 


ABOUKIR.  357 

father's  own  town,  and  major  of  the  squadron  of  the  Guides 
Hercules.  The  French  were  now  in  face  of  the  main  road, 
which  covered  the  Turkish  front. 

Bonaparte  could  have  driven  the  Turks  into  Aboukir, 
and  while  awaiting  the  divisions  of  Kleber  and  Régnier, 
have  crushed  them  with  shells  and  cannon-balls,  but  he  pre- 
ferred to  continue  the  attack  in  the  open  and  defeat  them 
once  for  all.     He  ordered  an  advance  on  their  second  line. 

It  was  still  Destaing  and  Lannes,  supported  by  Lanusse, 
who  bore  the  brunt  of  the  battle  and  took  the  honors  of 
the  day.  The  redoubt  which  covered  Aboukir  was  an 
English  work,  and,  consequently,  constructed  according 
to  the  rules  of  engineering  science.  It  was  defended  by 
nine  to  ten  thousand  Turks  ;  a  lateral  trench  connected 
it  with  the  sea.  The  Turks  had  not  had  time  to  complete 
the  corresponding  trench  on  the  other  side,  connecting 
with  Lake  Madieh.  A  space  of  some  three  hundred  yards 
was  therefore  left  open  ;  but  it  was  occupied  by  the 
enemy  and  could  be  swept  by  their  cannon. 

Bonaparte  ordered  an  attack  on  the  front  and  right. 
Murat,  stationed  in  a  wood  of  palm  trees,  was  to  attack 
on  the  left,  and  crossing  the  open  space  where  the  lateral 
trench  stopped,  under  fire  of  the  guns,  was  to  drive  the 
enemy  before  him. 

The  Turks,  seeing  the  disposition  of  the  French,  made 
a  sortie  from  the  town  in  four  bodies  of  about  two  thou- 
sand men  each  and  came  to  meet  us.  The  battle  was  likely 
to  be  terrible,  for  the  Turks,  finding  themselves  hemmed 
in  to  their  peninsula,  had  nothing  behind  them  but  the 
sea,  or  before  them  but  a  wall  of  our  bayonets. 
.  Meantime  a  vigorous  cannonading,  directed  against  the 
redoubt  and  the  intrenchments  on  the  right,  indicated  a 
new  attack.  Bonaparte  then  sent  forward  General  Fugière. 
He  followed  the  shore  at  a  run  to  cut  off  the  right  of  the 
Turks  ;  the  32d  brigade,  which  occupied  the  left  of  the 
village  lately  taken,  held  the  enemy  in  check  and  sup 
ported  the  18th. 


358  THE   FIRST    REPUBLIC." 

Then  it  was  that  the  Turks  left  their  intrenchments 
and  advanced  upon  us.  A  cry  of  joy  went  up  from  our 
men  ;  this  was  what  they  wanted.  They  flung  themselves 
on  the  enemy  with  fixed  bayonets.  The  Turks  discharged 
their  guns,  then  their  pistols,  and  finally  drew  their  sabres. 
Our  soldiers,  not  arrested  by  the  double  discharge,  met 
sabres  with  bayonets.  It  was  then  that  the  Turks  discovered 
what  sort  of  men  and  weapons  they  had  to  deal  with. 

With  their  guns  behind  their  backs,  their  sabres  hang- 
ing to  the  sword-kuots,  they  began  a  desperate  hand-to-hand 
struggle,  striving  to  wrench  from  the  muskets  those  terrible 
bayonets  which  went  through  their  breasts  at  the  very 
moment  they  stretched  out  their  hands  to  seize  them. 

But  nothing  arrested  the  18th  brigade  ;  on  it  marched 
with  even  step,  pushing  the  Turks  before  it  to  the  foot  of 
their  intrenchments,  which  it  attempted  to  carry  by  main 
force.  But  there  our  men  were  driven  back  by  a  plunging 
fire  which  took  them  diagonally.  General  Fugière,  who 
led  the  attack,  received  in  the  first  instance  a  ball  in  the 
head,  but  the  wound  was  slight  and  he  marched  on  still 
encouraging  his  soldiers  ;  but  a  second  bullet  took  off  his 
arm  and  he  was  forced  to  retire. 

The  adjutant-general,  Lelong,  who  now  came  up  with 
a  battalion  of  the  75th,  made  desperate  efforts  to  lead  his 
men  against  that  hurricane  of  fire.  Twice  he  brought 
them  up,  twice  they  were  repulsed;  again,  for  the  third 
time  he  dashed  forward,  but  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
crossed  the  intrenchments  he  fell  dead. 

For  a  long  time  Roland,  who  was  standing  beside 
Bonaparte,  begged  for  a  command,  but  the  latter  hesitated 
about  giving  it.  Now,  however,  he  knew  that  the  moment 
had  come  for  a  mighty  effort  ;  turning  to  him,  he  said  :  — 

"Go!" 

"  Follow  me,  32d  brigade  !  "  cried  Roland. 

Forward  dashed  the  heroes  of  Saint- Jean-d' Acre,  with 
their  major,  d'Armagnac,  at  their  head.  Sub-lieutenant 
Faraud,  cured  of  his  wound,  was  in  the  front  rank. 


ABOUKIR.  359 

During  this  time  another  attempt  had  been  made  by- 
Colonel  Morange,  but  he,  too,  was  repulsed  and  wounded, 
leaving  thirty  or  more  men  on  the  glacis  and  in  the  ditch. 

The  Turks  believed  themselves  victorious.  Enticed  by 
their  constant  habit  of  cutting  off  the  heads  of  the  dead  and 
wounded,  for  which  they  were  paid  fifty  paras  each,  they 
poured  out  of  the  redoubt  pell-mell  and  began  their  bloody 
work.     Roland  pointed  them  out  to  his  brigade, 

"All  those  men  are  not  dead  !  "  he  cried,  "they  are  only 
wounded.     Let  us  save  them  !  " 

At  this  moment  Murat  saw,  amid  the  smoke,  what  was 
happening.  He  rode  through  the  fire  of  the  batteries  with 
the  cavalry,  got  beyond  them,  and,  cutting  off  the  redoubt 
from  the  village,  fell  upon  the  bloody  wretches  who  were 
doing  their  horrid  work  on  the  other  side  of  the  redoubt, 
while  Roland,  attacking  in  front,  flung  himself  upon  the 
Turks  with  his  usual  foolhardiness  and  mowed  down  the 
butchers. 

Bonaparte,  seeing  the  Turks  shaken  by  this  double  onset, 
sent  forward  Lannes  with  a  couple  of  battalions.  Lannes, 
impetuous  as  ever,  approached  the  redoubt  on  the  left,  by 
the  gorge.  Pressed  on  all  sides,  the  Turks  tried  hard  to 
gain  the  village  of  Aboukir  ;  but  between  that  village  and 
the  redoubt  were  Murat  and  his  cavalry  ;  behind  them  were 
Roland  and  the  32d  brigade;  to  their  right,  Lannes  and 
his  two  battalions. 

No  refuge  remained  to  them  but  the  sea.  Into  it  they 
rushed  maddened  with  terror  ;  giving  no  quarter  to  their 
prisoners  they  expected  none,  and  preferred  the  sea  (which 
offered  a  chance  of  regaining  their  vessels)  to  death  at  the 
hands  of  Christians  whom  they  loathed. 

When  this  stage  of  the  battle  was  reached  we  were 
masters  of  the  two  mamelons  at  which  the  attack  began  ;  of 
the  village  where  the  remnant  of  their  defenders  had  taken 
refuge  ;  of  the  redoubt  which  had  just  cost  the  lives  of  so 
many  brave  men  ;  and  we  were  now  face  to  face  with  the 
Turkish  camp  and  its  reserves. 


360  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

Our  troops  fell  upon  them.  Nothing  could  arrest  their 
onset  ;  they  were  drunk  with  carnage.  They  flung  them- 
selves upon  the  tents  and  against  the  reserves.  Murat  and 
his  cavalry,  like  a  whirlwind,  like  a  hurricane,  like  the 
simoon  itself,  plunged  upon  the  pacha's  guard. 

Ignorant  of  the  fate  of  the  battle,  amazed  at  these  cries 
and  the  sudden  tumult,  Mustapha  mounted  his  horse,  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  his  body-guard,  and  charging  for- 
ward, met  Murat  himself,  fired  on  him,  and  slightly  wounded 
him.  With  a  first  sabre-cut  IVIurat  cut  off  two  of  the  pacha's 
fingers,  and  was  about  to  split  his  head  open  with  a  second 
when  an  Arab  flung  himself  before  his  chieftain  to  protect 
him,  received  the  blow,  and  fell  dead.  Mustapha  then  held 
out  his  scimitar  ;  and  Murat  sent  him  prisoner  to  Bonaparte. 

This  is  the  scene  of  Gros's  magnificent  picture. 

The  remnants  of  the  Turkish  army  retired  into  the  fort 
of  Aboukir  ;  the  bulk  of  it  was  killed  or  drowned.  Never,  in 
the  history  of  war,  since  two.  armies  met  each  other,  Avas 
such  destruction  seen.  With  the  exception  of  two  hundred 
Janissaries  and  one  hundred  others  still  in  the  fort,  nothing 
remained  of  the  eighteen  thousand  Turks  who  had  lately 
disembarked. 

Kleber  arrived  at  the  close  of  the  battle,  informed  him- 
self of  what  had  happened,  and  asked  where  was  Bonaparte. 

Bonaparte  was  standing,  dreaming,  on  the  farthest 
extremity  of  the  promontory  of  Aboukir.  He  was  looking 
at  the  gulf  which  had  swallowed  up  his  entire  fleet,  —  that 
is  to  say,  his  only  means  of  returning  to  France. 

Kleber  went  up  to  him,  clasped  him  round  the  body,  and, 
while  Bonaparte's  vague  veiled  glance  was  still  upon  the 
sea,  he  said  to  him  :  — 

"  General,  you  are  grand  as  the  world  !  " 


\ 


POKTRAIT   OP   KleBER. 


DEPARTURE.  361 


DEPARTURE. 

During  the  year  this  Eighth  Crusade  (the  Ninth  unless 
we  count  Saint  Louis's  two  attempts  as  one)  had  lasted 
Bonaparte  had  done  all  that  a  human  being  could  do.  He 
had  seized  Alexandria,  conquered  the  Mameluks  at  Che- 
breïss  and  at  the  Pyramids,  taken  Cairo,  achieved  the 
conquest  of  the  Delta  and  that  of  Upper  Egypt,  had  taken 
Gaza  and  Jaffa,  and  destroyed  the  Turkish  army  of  Achmet 
the  Djezzar  on  the  plain  of  Mount  ïabor  ;  and  lastly,  he  had 
now  annihilated  a  second  Turkish  army  at  Aboukir.  The 
three  colors  floated  triumphantly  on  the  Nile  and  on  the 
Jordan. 

But  he  was  ignorant  of  what  was  passing  in  France  ;  and 
that  was  why,  on  the  evening  of  the  battle  of  Aboukir,  he 
gazed  so  dreamily  at  the  sea  where  his  vessels  were  engulfed. 
He  had  sent  for  Sergeant  Falou,  now  a  sub-lieutenant,  and 
questioned  him  a  second  time  as  to  the  fight  at  Beyrout,  the 
disaster  to  the  flotilla,  and  the  blowing  up  of  the  felucca 
"  Italie,"  and  again  his  presentiments  assailed  him. 

In  the  hope  of  obtaining  news  of  some  kind  he  sent  for 
Roland  de  Montrevel. 

"  My  dear  Eoland,"  he  said,  "  I  have  half  a  mind  to  open 
a  new  career  to  you." 

"  What  career  ?  "  asked  Roland. 

"  Diplomacy." 

"  Oh  !  what  a  horrid  idea,  general  !  " 

"  You  will  have  to  accept  it,  nevertheless.' 

**  Won't  you  allow  me  to  refuse  ?  " 

«No." 


362  THE    FIRST   REPUBLIC. 

"  Say  on,  then." 

"  I  am  going  to  send  you  with  a  flag  of  truce  to  Sir  Sidney 
Smith." 

''  What  are  my  instructions  ?  " 

"  You  will  try  to  find  out  from  him  what  is  going  on  in 
France  ;  you  must  be  careful  to  distinguish  the  true  from 
the  false  in  what  he  tells  you  ;  and  that  is  not  so  easy." 

"  I  '11  do  my  best.     What  is  the  pretext  of  the  embassy  ?  " 

"Exchange  of  prisoners.  The  English  have  twenty -five 
of  our  men  ;  and  we  have  two  hundred  and  fifty  Turks  ;  I  '11 
return  him  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  Turks  for  the  twenty- 
five  Frenchmen." 

•*  When  shall  I  start  ?  " 

"  To-day." 

It  was  then  the  16th  of  July;  Roland  started,  and 
returned  the  next  evening  with  a  bundle  of  newspapers. 
Sir  Sidney  had  recognized  the  young  hero  of  Saint-Jean- 
d'Acre,  and  made  no  difficulty  whatever  in  telling  him 
what  was  happening  in  Europe.  Then  having  read  incre- 
dulity in  Roland's  eyes,  he  gave  him  all  the  English,  French, 
and  German  newspapers  on  board  the  "  Tigre." 

The  news  they  contained  was  disastrous.  The  Republic, 
beaten  at  Stockach  and  at  Magnano,  had  lost,  at  Stockach, 
Germany;  at  Magnano,  Italy.  Massena,  withdrawn  into 
Switzerland,  had  made  himself  impregnable  on  the  Albis. 
Piedmont  was  invaded,  and  the  department  of  the  Var 
threatened. 

The  next  day  Bonaparte  said  to  Roland  :  — 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  ?  " 

"  About  what  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  that  Italy  was  lost  ;  I  knew  it." 

"  Then  we  must  take  it  again,"  said  Roland. 

"  We  will  try  to,"  replied  Bonaparte.    "  Call  Bourrienne." 

When  Bourrienne  came,  — 

"  Find  out  from  Berthier  exactly  where  Gantheaume  is," 
said  Bonaparte. 

"  He  is  at  Ramanieh,  superintending  the  building  of  the 
flotilla  for  the  Upper  Nile." 


DEPARTURE.  363 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  '' 
.  "I  had  a  letter  from  liijii  yesterday." 

''  I  want  a  brave  and  trusty  messenger/'  said  Bonaparte 
to  Roland.     "  Send  for  Falou  and  his  dromedary." 

Roland  went  out. 

"  Write  these  few  words  at  once,  Bourrienne,"  continued 
Bonaparte. 

On  receipt  of  tliis  letter  Admiral  (îantheaiime  will  immediately 
proceed  to  General  Bonaparte's  headquarters. 

July  28th,  1799.  BoURRlENNE. 

Ten  minutes  later  Roland  returned  with  Falou  and  his 
camel. 

Bonaparte  gave  a  glance  of  satisfaction  at  his  chosen, 
messenger. 

"  Is  your  steed  in  as  good  condition  as  you  are  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

''  My  dromedary  and  I,  general,  are  in  a  condition  to  do 
seventy -five  miles  a  day." 

"  I  only  ask  you  to  do  sixty." 

"  Mere  nothing  !  " 

"  You  are  to  carry  this  letter." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  Ramanieh." 

"  It  shall  be  delivered  to-night." 

"  Read  the  address." 

"  '  To  Admiral  Gantheaume.'  " 

"Now  if  you  lose  it —  " 

"  I  sha'n't  lose  it." 

"  It  is  proper  to  suppose  everything.  Listen  to  what  it 
contains  —  " 

"  Is  it  very  long  ?  " 

"  Only  a  sentence." 

"  Oh  !  that 's  all  right  then  ;  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  '  Admiral  Gantheaume  is  requested  to  come  immediately 
to  General  Bonaparte.'  " 

"  That 's  not  difficult  to  remember." 


364  THE    FIRST    REPUBLIC. 

«  Then  be  off." 

Falou  made  his  dromedary  kneel,  clambered  on  its  hump, 
and  started  at  a  trot,  shouting  :  — 

"  I  am  off  !  " 

In  fact  he  was  already  at  some  distance. 

The  next  evening  he  reappeared. 

"The  admiral  is  following  me,"  he  said 

The  admiral  arrived  late  at  night  ;  Bonaparte  had  not 
gone  to  bed.     Gantheaume  found  him  writing. 

"  Get  ready  for  sea  the  two  frigates  '  La  Muiron,'  and 
'  La  Carrere,'  "  said  Bonaparte,  "  and  two  small  vessels, 
'  La  Revanche,'  and  '  La  Fortune  ;  '  provision  them  for  forty 
or  fifty  men  for  two  months.  Not  a  word  about  it  to  any 
one.     You  are  to  come  with  me." 

Gantheaume  retired,  promising  not  to  lose  a  moment. 

Bonaparte  sent  for  Murat. 

"  Italy  is  lost  !  "  he  said.  "  The  scoundrels  !  they  have 
squandered  the  fruits  of  our  victories.  We  must  go  back. 
Choose  me  five  hundred  safe  men." 

Then  turning  to  Roland,  he  added,  "  See  that  Faraud  and 
Falou  are  among  them." 

Roland  nodded. 

General  Kleber,  to  whom  Bonaparte  intended  to  leave 
the  command  of  the  army,  was  invited  to  meet  him  at 
Rosetta,  "to  confer  with  the  commander-in-chief  on  im- 
portant matters." 

Bonaparte  gave  him  a  rendezvous  which  he  did  not  mean 
to  keep  ;  he  wanted  to  evade  the  reproaches  and  the  stern 
frankness  of  Kleber,  and  he  therefore  wrote  him  all  that 
he  had  to  say,  —  giving  as  a  reason  for  not  keeping  the 
appointment  that  he  was  in  momentary  fear  the  British 
cruisers  might  appear,  and  he  judged  it  best  to  sail  at 
once. 

The  vessel  Bonaparte  had  chosen  was  again  to  bear 
Caesar  and  his  fortunes.  This  time  it  was  no  longer  Caesar 
advancing  toward  the  Orient  to  add  Egypt  to  the  conqitests 
of  Rome;  it  was  Caesar  -revolving  in  his  mind  the  vast 


DEPARTUKE.  365 

designs  which  led  the  victor  of  the  Gauls  to  cross  the 
Rubicon.  Bonaparte  returned  to  France,  —  not  shrinking 
for  an  instant  from  the  idea  of  overthrowing  a  government 
for  which  he  had  fought  on  the  13th  Vendémiaire  and 
which  he  had  maintained  on  the  18th  Fructidor. 

A  gigantic  dream  had  vanished  before  the  walls  of  Saint- 
Jean-d'Acre  ;  but  a  dream  perhaps  more  mighty  still  glowed 
in  his  mind  as  he  left  Alexandria. 

On  the  23d  of  August,  of  a  dark  night,  a  boat  put  off 
from  the  land  of  Egypt  and  carried  Bonaparte  on  board 
"  La  Muiron.'' 


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